Ostentatious Murder
by Periphrastic Marshmallow
Summary: A family has been slaughtered, and the culprit has confessed. Yet with the sordid dealings of the Uchiha family's remnants in motion, a certain legendary attorney is in for a rough ride. AU, multiple pairings.
1. Action Reaction

**So like, I love lawyers. I also love ItaOro (as is painfully obvious, tbh), so it kind of naturally followed that I'd do a big, ItaOro lawyer AU fic, right?**

**This is all set in a late 1800s style era, so you can count on top hats, revolvers, carriages and other such exciting contraptions. And cravats, dontcha know.**

**There'll be plenty of other side pairings sneaking in to cause havoc, complete with a good deal of conspiracy and unclear motives, cuz that's just how I roll, baby. You can also expect some angst – I mean, hell, how can you not have angst in a fic where someone kills his family, eh?**

**This chapter is kind of like a … prologue setting up thing, I guess. Don't expect it to make any sense.**

**You have been warned.**

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The first thing anyone had heard of the greatest murder case of the century was a gunshot and a scream. The next week, all one could read in the newspapers were theories – 'Who killed the Uchihas?', or 'The youngest survivor hospitalized and the other two in shock! Could one of them have done it?'

The week after that, the _new_ news was all over the headlines: 'Uchiha killings revealed as son shockingly confesses' or 'Demon spawn claims responsibility for massacre!' However it was worded, heads turned. And the more heads turned, the more mouths opened and soon Itachi Uchiha was the talk of the town, his name becoming the subject of curses and disgust.

But this is getting ahead of the facts. There were certain undeniable truths about the case, truths that added layers of conspiracy to the bizarre slaughter. Truths such as that the Uchihas were the most wealthy business family in the city, and almost the most ancient, second only to the remnants of the Senju clan which was now broken beyond repair. A truth such as that the current leader of the clan, Uchiha Madara, was rumoured to be soon standing for the position of city Mayor, previously denied the position in favour of another. With his family dead, would he still do it? Then there were the two sons of the main branch, Sasuke and Itachi, with bright futures as the heirs. "What exactly would drive a boy with his life ahead of him to kill his family?" was one of the more popular questions out on the streets, and there were plenty of whispered answers.

Regardless of the theories breeding on the streets, the day Uchiha Itachi's trial was announced was a day of jubilation, and until that day he sat in a detention cell in isolation, rumours saying there was not a shred of remorse about him. Indeed, they claimed he was smiling. Needless to say, with his confession and the entire city against him, his trial lasted a grand total of half an hour before the young Uchiha was condemned to an eternity in prison, 'his punishment not enough to even begin to atone' the prosecutor had said. The acting defence lawyer, a thoroughly unremarkable man far out of his depth, had only nodded having known from the beginning there was no way to fight the iron hand of justice.

Ten minutes or so later, Uchiha Itachi was ushered out of the court room to face a small army of journalists, all scribbling fiercely in their little notebooks, calling his name and barraging him with questions. The one time he opened his mouth was to say: "I'm guilty. I deserve this."

* * *

"Haha, what d'ya think he did?"

"Pfff, him? He's probably some whore that got caught."

"Stupid, you don't get sent to prison for that."

Escorted by a guard of six, Uchiha Itachi walked down an expanse of corridor lined with cells on either side. He had not expected his prison life to be a pleasant affair, but part of him was hoping that it wouldn't quite be this… intimate. From one cell, you could see across into the other side's through the bars, and voices were clearly audible from several cells down the hall. To his distaste, Itachi noted that the toilets were right next to the cells' beds, again in plain view. He sighed heavily and carried on walking, making sure to ignore the chatter that was emitting from the inmates, all of whom were staring at him with curiosity.

"Oh, hey, doesn't he look like that Uchiha…?"

"Oh! That's what they were called. Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's him."

"Woah, can't judge a book by its cover… He doesn't look like he could shoot game let alone his family."

Itachi's tallest guard whose name he was not sure of, broke out of formation to fire his gun up in the ceiling, instantly silencing the incarcerated. "Shut up, worms!"

There was a tentative pause, but ultimately the gesture was ignored and the inmates continued chatting, although with Itachi having noticeably less focus. Thankful for this, he nearly gave the guard a gratuitous look before recalling that they only agreed to protect him as they thought a demon like him was too far beneath assassination or something of the sort. Thus they protected him from the death they claimed would be a mercy. Indeed, Itachi thought it would be, too.

Instead of a truthfully welcome demise, he settled for marching on wards with his emotionless mask well in place. It wasn't for another minute or so until he realized that his prison guide had been speaking to him. She was a fairly tall woman and notably refined, however her eyes were darkened with tiredness, yet her blue hair tied back neatly. Itachi had to wonder what a distinguished woman such as herself was doing here; he would have thought she would be better off at home.

"...as I touched on earlier, meal times are on a rota depending on what prison block you're in. Your block, C, has a 12:30 start, ending at 1:30 during which the lunch hall will be open to you for the first half. You can do what you like with the second half; there's a library to visit, you could speak with the others in the courtyard or do some exercise… Any questions so far?"

He paused, taking this in. In retrospect, an hour for lunch really was quite respectable. Itachi was beginning to see why some people preferred jail to their daily lives. "Ah, yes... What are the arrangements for showers?" The matter was beyond close to Itachi's heart, indeed, washing was one of those things he was certain he could not live without.

The woman laughed lightly in a silvery tone and smiled wryly. "I thought you might be the type to ask. Thanks to a prisoner's intervention some while ago, you'll be able to have a shower every day and the bathroom is fully stocked."

He ought to have been able to contain his relief but he could not, and so Itachi let out a heavy breath of contentment and felt the corners of his mouth turn ever so slightly. He caught himself before he looked too silly. How long had it been since that happened…?

The woman was eyeing him in curiosity, much like the inmates had earlier. "I'm curious, Itachi-kun, you really don't seem…"

Whatever contentment he had felt earlier was replaced with a hollowness, and Itachi's face instantly returned to an emotionless façade. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"… I understand," She replied amiably, turning back to face the corridor ahead which they continued to walk through. "My name is Konan, by the way."

Eventually, she stopped walking in front of an empty cell, presumably where Itachi was to be staying for the rest of his life. She gave him an earnest look and offered her hand in a sign of friendship which he took after a moment of consideration. "We'll probably see each other around, Itachi-san."

"Thank you, Konan-san," He managed; already stepping into his new abode if one could call it that. It was much the same as the others, he mused. The four stone walls were uneven, with all manner of things potentially lurking in the shadows. There was no furniture save for a crumbling excuse for a wooden shelf on which sat an oil lamp, a solid looking bed and the identical pithy toilet which Itachi had spied on the way there in other cells. Cold, dark, slightly damp… Utterly uninviting, but that was to be expected. It was what he deserved, after all.

With a final farewell, the blue haired woman walked away, his guards following but not before closing his cell door with a final slam.

Itachi paused, looking out at their retreating figures. He did not do so for long, instead opting to lie upon his bed, an arm over his eyes, utterly exhausted from the day – getting sentenced for life and then shipped off to jail had unsurprisingly taken it out of him.

His last thought before sleep took him was of his brother's face.

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Uchiha Sasuke pulled his scarf tightly around his neck in an attempt to hide from the frigid weather of mid-November. In retrospect, he should have worn an overcoat but in his arrogance he had ventured out expecting his tailored jacket and waistcoat to protect him from the torrent of snow.

Of course, it could not be said he was mentally the best right now – he had to force his butler to allow him outside his room, and getting out of the manor had required a full blown escape. But it was necessary: there was something he had to do at any cost.

Earlier that day he had stood in court and listened to his brother confess to the murder of his entire family – the beloved brother he had trusted with his entire soul, and he would be lying if he said he was not on the verge of tears throughout the whole affair. His uncle had smiled at him at the time, saying something along the lines of 'Oh Sasuke, you are but 15, crying is perfectly understandable!', he himself utterly unfazed by the fact he was attending his nephew's trial on account of the slaughter of the rest of his kin.

Then again, Sasuke had never thought his uncle to be anything more than a heartless bastard, and the day had confirmed it.

A carriage flew by, bringing Sasuke back to the bitterly cold world in a gust of wind. Uncomfortably he wondered why he was not wearing his top hat – he was certain he had put it on…

"Sir, a newspap—oh God, you be the youngest Uchiha?" A young boy had approached him. Truthfully, they were probably the same age, but putting the two next to each other one would only show a wide eyed youth next to a young man whose eyes were darkened with death.

"… No." Sasuke snapped, grabbing a newspaper before hurrying on to his destination.

And he would not stop until he saw his brother executed.

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A steady tick filled the ears of the man at the desk. He had moved that damn clock away from the corner closest to him in order to escape the accursed sound, yet somehow it still reached him from across his mahogany plated study. His eyes flicked up to glare at the object, no longer able to focus on the letter he was midway through writing. The clock stood at a good two meters, intricately carved on all parts. The golden pendulum in the centre behind a polished glass panel swung contentedly and Uchiha Madara found his eyes stuck at it for some while, almost hypnotised by the movement.

Idly, he wondered how the man who had given the damn thing to him was doing.

With a sharp shake of the head, he returned his focus to the letter below him, a request to bail out his dear nephew. The results of today's trial sat bitterly with him, almost in the form of a bad taste in his mouth. Never once had Itachi given any indication that he intended to confess – it was his job, no, his _duty_ to deny all charges, and it was his lawyer's duty to make sure he got off scot free. They had both failed miserably, and Madara had seen the latter take his last breath two hours earlier as repentance.

There was a knock at the door, and irritably he called out that whoever it was may enter. Truth be told, he was not surprised to see a renowned man leaning on the door frame, overdressed as ever yet impeccably turned out.

The butler responsible for opening the door gave Madara a bow of respect and allowed the visitor to saunter in before retreating hastily to leave the two men to their discussion.

There was a silence between them which the clock filled nicely, before the visitor spoke in a silky tone. "I do believe I remember telling you that the boy would be out of his depth?"

Politely, Madara offered a chair in which the other man sat down in with an elegant movement. As he did so, the Uchiha replied with an equally polite smile. "Honestly, I was not counting on my nephew confessing of all things… Even you could have done nothing, I suspect." He made a vexed noise for emphasis.

"Nonsense. A confession is but a minor setback to a good defence," The other replied, glancing over to what Madara had been writing earlier, now abandoned. "Bail? I suppose I could help you there."

Madara laughed lightly in response. "No need. I suspect this will fail." Reaching into his desk, he pulled out a lacquered box of confectionary. "Biscuit?"

"No thank you, _sir_." The last word was strained, as though the visitor was using every fibre of his being to force it out.

"As I was saying… This will not succeed. In fact, I am counting on it failing."

"Doubtless you have other things in mind," The visitor responded with a smirk, leaning over Madara's desk with his face lightly propped up in his hands. "You certainly have the look of a man with an idea."

The Uchiha replied with an equally crooked smile and raised an eyebrow, also leaning over his desk in a similar fashion from the comfortable confines of his favourite arm chair. "You'll be pleased to know that you're included in it, I suppose." He paused for a tense moment. "And so is my other nephew."

The visitor looked Madara firmly in the eyes and reached over to the box, pulling out a chocolate biscuit, humming to himself in pleasure. "Name your price, Uchiha Madara." He raised his biscuit holding hand up to his mouth, and before he could take a bite, Madara swiftly stole it away with a darkly amused face.

"I think you know what it is by now, no, Oro-kun?" And if there was any offense caused by the little nickname, Orochimaru did a remarkably good job of hiding it as he sighed in resignation.

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**Well, that's that.**

**Hope it wasn't too awful, though I'm not sure if I have the guts to carry this on. We'll see~!  
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	2. Teenage Rollercoaster

**Whew, this chapter is… long. It took quite a while to write, to be honest. Setting out all this CONSPIRACEEEE stuff is a real pain in the butt – I suggest that if you find a continuity error you just kind of… sweep it away with a metaphorical brush.**

**And, thanks to you guys for reviewing~! 3 To answer you question, pompomwoop, this is in fact not the monstrosity I had in mind a while back~ that's still sitting around in a nonchalant manner, waiting to be prodded at with a stick.**

**Now that I'm on holiday, updates should be much easier to reel off. Hopefully.**

Neatly tucked away in a well disguised adjoining bathroom, Orochimaru was lightly washing and fixing his hair in front of a gold-framed mirror. From where he stood, he could hear the steady tick of Madara's clock and it was beginning to agitate him more than it usually did. Though, that was likely due to an acute case of mental and physical fatigue… and a rather sore behind, which he was pointedly ignoring in a bitter fashion.

One matted section of hair, where it had been tugged with undue enthusiasm, was proving to be most uncooperative, and so when it refused to unclump at what seemed to be the twentieth attempt, Orochimaru slammed the palm of his hand down onto the cool marble counter only to be greeted with a deep chuckle wafting in from the study outside.

"Having some trouble?"

"… None at all, sir." _Though this is all your bloody fault, Uchiha_. He all but hissed in response, deciding that he would instead move on to putting his remaining clothes and accessories back on before some Uchiha employee walked into the study and got rather the unfortunately correct impression of what had occurred earlier.

He found his mind wandering as he buttoned up his elegantly embroidered waistcoat, and much to his displeasure, wafting back to thoughts of the conversation from earlier. Madara had yet to tell him exactly what he was supposed to, and probably would not do, but he had no doubt in his mind that every course of action was going to be moderated and planned for in that typically infuriating way the Uchiha head practiced. Orochimaru generally prided himself in his almost unfailing ability to find flexibility in a tight situation and that was part of what made him one of the greatest attorneys in the current judicial system, but if there was one man that could throw him off balance, it was the bastard sitting in the next room eating more of those bloody biscuits.

In fact, the whole situation surrounding the Uchiha massacre seemed odd to him – nothing fit, be it the perpetrator, the timing… He had met Itachi once or twice before and had been struck by what a calm and loving boy he seemed to be (much to his amusement and partial disgust), and he could not think of anything that would cause him to go off the deep end and murder all but two of his relatives. That was another thing that seemed strange; Sasuke and Madara survived. Well, Madara was not such a surprise, indeed Orochimaru was fairly certain he had more than a small part in planning the killing, but the younger Uchiha brother…? At fifteen, would he really have enough hatred or motive?

Furthermore, if Madara was involved, which he _so_ clearly was, the timing and risk taken would make absolutely no sense. He was due to be standing for city mayor in two months, and getting himself implicated in such an affair would just have been foolish. So why? Surely there was absolutely nothing to gain from having his family killed, be it public pity or even silencing those who knew too much about his criminal dealings.

Indeed, Orochimaru smiled wryly at this. If there was anyone in the world who knew as much about Madara Uchiha's heavy hand in the criminal underworld it was himself, the man unfortunate enough to have been caught up in several… messes in the past with him. It was the consequences of these affairs that left Orochimaru so stuck by the Uchiha Leader's side, acting as nothing short of his highly influential and undeniably useful, and this thought pained him greatly, toy – the sheer thought made him angry.

With another irritated gesture, he distracted himself by carefully observing his surroundings, taking in the honestly quite beautiful bathroom, presumably installed for the sake of nights where Madara was forced to stay in his office all night. Although, such a travesty had probably not occurred for some while as the man never seemed to do any work whatsoever. At least, not when Orochimaru was around which admittedly far more often than he would have liked.

He was again distracted from his thoughts by the sound of hurried footsteps and a door crashing open. Quickly glancing into the mirror and taking note of his still dishevelled state, hair still bound by a sticky substance in some places, Orochimaru determined that he was probably best staying in the bathroom and hoping that whoever the intruder was did not notice his presence there. The last thing he needed was some scandal perpetrated by some lowly errand boy of Madara's, but at least this way he could try and ascertain what was being said in the next room and perhaps learn something new about the sod he was forced to deal with on a regular basis.

He was surprised by whose voice he heard. "Uncle, we need to talk. Now."

"Ah, Sasuke my dear boy! Have a seat, and if you would like, a biscuit." There was an ominous pause. "That goes for you as well, my dear." Madara replied, clearly the last address aimed at Orochimaru, who cursed under his breath. So much for remaining unseen and unnoticed by the intruder. In many ways, this visitor was far worse than any random employee could have been – this one, Orochimaru would be dealing with in the future, so being seen in such a… questionable state would almost spell disaster.

Unless of course, he was as good a liar which he had made his name on – which indeed he was. Smirking at his chosen course of action, he sauntered out of the bathroom, well aware that his shirt was still slightly unbuttoned at the top and his hair was a display of indecency. He raised a hand slightly in what he hoped was a nonchalant greeting. "Good to see you, Sasuke. And indeed, sir, I would love a biscuit."

The boy was apparently not expecting to see who he assumed was his uncle's pet lawyer. Especially not in such a blatant display of prior frisky behaviour, and Sasuke was thus stunned into silence, temporarily forgetting the reason he had come.

"Sasuke, I believe we have had the good fortune of meeting once or twice in the past – however, to refresh your memory, I am the one and only Orochimaru, every inch as talented as you have doubtless heard and then a little more on the side."

Madara laughed in good humour, offering up his biscuit tin to his alabaster skinned lawyer. Admittedly, he had expected his 'friend' to try and scrabble around for an excuse to stay in the bathroom, but this unexpected behaviour was one of the main reasons he was so fond of Orochimaru. Trust him to utterly abandon decency and image and come out demanding a biscuit, singing his own praises with absolutely no shame.

Sasuke merely stared at the flamboyant man in front of him before shaking it off and turning back to his uncle. "Look, we need to talk."

"Indeed, you said that earlier." He replied, learning back into his chair contentedly not before snatching the biscuit tin away from Orochimaru who seemed to be on the verge of quite happily polishing it off; undaunted however, he moved to the back of the room, apparently fully intent on listening in on the conversation. _Fine by me – let's feed the hungry attorney_, Madara thought with a smirk before turning his attention fully on his slightly unstable looking nephew. "Actually, Sasuke, I recall instructing your good butler not to let you out of the house. You do require your rest."

The boy merely scoffed at this, clenching the arms of his chair with certain desperation. "I snuck out. No matter – he…" Apparently, he was having difficulty with processing thoughts, let alone his words. "That… Itachi."

"You believe he was unjustly persecuted?" Madara responded airily, already having anticipated exactly what was the matter with his youngest relative. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Orochimaru leafing through his books. Clearly he'd have to remind him 'gently' later that he did not appreciate his belongings touched.

"Something like that," Sasuke replied hastily, breathing uncharacteristically quickly. If he was anything less of a self proclaimed heartless bastard, Madara would have felt sorry for his relative. However, he was not, and so he simply found his nephew's state really quite amusing although, giving the pretence of pity he knitted his eyebrows in mock concern before being addressed again. "Look – he… doesn't… he doesn't deserve life."

Madara raised his eyebrows. Unsurprisingly he was correct in his assumption, but his nephew didn't quite need to know that. "Sasuke, Sasuke… You have had a trying day." He leant forward and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, feeling that perhaps brining up consolation biscuits would be a little inappropriate. Not to mention he had been generous enough that day. "Please, do not be so harsh on your brother. Surely, he had a reason for… for what he did."

Clearly enraged, Sasuke slammed his hands down on the desk causing it to jump slightly. "Uncle, you're not that naïve, stop it!" He let out a shaky breath, and apparently something clicked in his head, and so he turned to Orochimaru who was still fingering Madara's books. "The death penalty." He said. "You're a lawyer – can you get him the death penalty? You can, can't you? Work for me and help me kill him! I'll do whatever's necessary, so bloody hell, please!"

There was a tense moment as the alabaster skinned man considered the question, not bothering to seek permission from Madara as to whether going along with this would suit his plan. He abandoned the files that had previously held his interest so tightly, and walked painfully slowly over to the desperate teenager. "I am certain - and mark my words on this," he began, "that life in the prison your monstrous brother Itachi now finds himself in is several times worse than any death you could write for him would be-"

"But-"

"Let him finish, boy." Madara commanded harshly, highly interested in what his favourite toy was saying. Sasuke let out a vexed noise yet remained silent, desperate to hear a professional opinion on what he so badly desired.

"However, my dear boy, a client's wish is a client's wish." Orochimaru replied with an eerily charming smile.

The teenager's eyes almost shone in delight and he slowly brought himself to his feet, barely able to restrain a relieved smile. "Oh, god, thank you, this is—"

"And given that your _uncle_ is my client, I think therefore, my answer is no, Sasuke-_kun_."

Orochimaru didn't think he'd ever heard Madara laugh so hard as he did when Sasuke abruptly stood up and marched out, indignation and despair darkening his features.

Sasuke had been received back home with servants rushing to meet him, brushing snow off his shivering form. His butler had stormed up to him and had given him a gentle lecture on not going out of the house until he felt more up to going about daily activities, but he had barely listened. Instead, he trudged up to his room without a word, eyes darkened with the bitter taste of failure. He had considered trying another lawyer, but if the things he'd heard about Orochimaru were true, he was utterly invincible in a court room and had far too many connection to far too many people. Going against him was probably a feat people had lost incredible amounts of futile money over.

It was probably hopeless. His brother would get away with a comfortable life in jail, his uncle would probably succeed with whatever he was up to, and Sasuke would be left to carry the dirty burden those two left behind. Was he supposed to continue on to university like this? Just… forget?

Heaving a heavy sigh, he buried himself down into his bed, diving beneath the covers and hugging a hot water bottle that some considerate servant had left out for him. They had their uses, occasionally.

Lying in his bed, the day's events simply replayed over and over again in Sasuke's mind. He had thought that things would start to make sense after visiting his uncle, that maybe he'd reveal one or two things, or perhaps that he'd turn out to be a great guy after all who shared his nephew's sentiments on having Itachi die. Clearly he had been mistaken, Sasuke thought bitterly, eyes narrowed.

Clearly he had been mistaken about Itachi. In fact, probably the only thing he was right about was that his uncle was a nasty piece of work, but even then he'd seen him so little of him these past few years that he really knew nothing about him.

Vexed, Sasuke closed his eyes. It was unlike him to give up so easily, and in the past many had told him how stubborn he could be – indeed, the question was who was more stubborn, himself or the wanton attorney? With a direction in mind, he decided on the next day's events and then, satisfied, let sleep and sweet memories take him.

_The young boy blinked in confusion and then let out a squeak of alarm when a leaf lightly bumped him on the nose before continuing it's path to the ground. To his side, another boy, older, laughed lightly and patted his younger brother on the head._

"_Sasuke, it's a leaf."_

"_It attacked me! And when I'm so tired, too!" The boy pouted and kicked at the autumn leaves gathering at his feet as though they were crabs crawling up to get him._

_Itachi__, having taken the hint, smiled lightly and offered his back up to Sasuke, who leapt on to it with glee. "We're not that far from home, brother. Don't get too comfortable."_

_Indeed, the two of them had been playing in the forest not far from the Uchihas' summer house south of Konoha. The younger of the siblings had ripped clothes to show for it, with small twigs sticking to his clothes, his knees muddy from where he had crouched down behind trees trying to hide from his brother. Of course, Itachi was maintaining a much more respectable image, knowing full well their father would be displeased if they came back with both of them looking like street urchins._

_After a good twenty minutes of walking in comparative silence, Sasuke finally summed up the courage to ask his big brother a question. "Hey, um, why has our uncle been so mean lately…? He takes my pens from my hand and he eats my snacks and…"He stopped, realising his brother probably didn't want to hear him whine._

_It was a while before Itachi replied to Sasuke's question, his twelve year old self not quite sure. "I think it's because of Mr. Senju." _

"_Oh, they were friends, wasn't they…?"_

"'_Weren't', Sasuke. However, I'm not so sure about that. Maybe they used to be before…" Itachi trailed off. "Either way, his disappearance was a while ago. Even if Uncle Madara is being unusually grumpy, that doesn't really affect us now, does it?" He finally managed a smile, jumping slightly to jerk his brother back into cheer. Of course, jumpy motions never failed to cheer up the boy, and Sasuke was instantly back to chirping in Itachi's ear, grinning all the while._

"Sir, um…"

"For goodness's sake, Kabuto, what?"

"Your cravat is… off centre." The young man in glasses withered under his boss' piercing glare. "Um, sorry. Simply thought you should know."

Orochimaru snorted in derision before setting down his cutlery upon his porcelain lunch plate and jerking at his apparently offensive ruffles. There was one man and one man alone to blame for them being out of place – and to be honest, it was not just the cravat that Madara Uchiha had shaken up earlier that day. He was irate enough at being called out to the Uchiha mansion, not even the office, at eight in the morning, only to find Madara lounging around in bed. Apparently it was fine to drag his subordinates out to see him without him even needing to stand up.

Regardless, the morning had, all rudeness aside, been highly interesting. Whilst Madara's scheme was veritably barmy, and he could almost physically feel his free time being corroded (and it was highly unpleasant), he could not disguise the distinct twinge of excitement he so rarely got these days. The excitement of a new, thrilling case; and this one promised to be one of the most explosive to date.

Indeed, he could hardly wait for his visit to the prison later that day in order to visit his darling new client, Itachi.

_But first…_ "Kabuto, what is that dejected looking boy doing in my waiting room?"

For what seemed to be the 20th time that day, Kabuto Yakushi let out a long, heavy sigh. His boss truly was hard work. Beyond hard work – he was a life time worth of dedication and loyal servitude and then some. "Sir, Sasuke Uchiha has been beginning to see you for hours."

Orochimaru considered this with a pensive expression, almost appearing vaguely troubled. "Yes, I suppose he might have been. Tell him to leave me to my paperwork and cheer up."

"Sir, his family just died." The white haired secretary replied, getting the distinct impression that something highly momentous had been happening as of late. Something that he was not privy to.

Apparently, the significance of Sasuke's plight was utterly lost on Orochimaru as he merely arched an eyebrow. "… Is that supposed to be of any consequence? He has already pestered me today, and my answer shall not be changing. Honestly, is my life to be plagued by the Uchiha family?" He gave a melodramatic sigh as he raised his lacquered hand to his heart and swept back over to his sinfully comfortable arm chair. Really, it was more of a specially commissioned throne, but saying such a thing was a certain way to displease a power-hungry boss, and said boss looking for blood was the last thing Kabuto needed during his Friday lunching hour. Of course, not that the time or day of the week ever mattered – an Orochimaru was for life, after all, not Monday morning to Friday evening.

Something, however, seemed at odds in the situation and Kabuto did not hesitate in reproaching his boss about it. "Sir, I thought you were keen to gain access to Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Oh, I am. However, dear Madara…" much to Kabuto's surprise, that name was spoken without the usual contempt, "…has frankly offered me a much more entertaining alternative. Tell Sasuke-kun to go home and play with his mother and father."

Kabuto paused, offering a slightly reproachful cough in response.

Making a noise of vexation from within his cushioned confines, Orochimaru quietly wondered whether he should dispose of his secretary for such insolence. After all, others had done much less and gotten much worse in the past. Quite frequently, really. Deciding that he was far too excited to yell at anyone, he resigned to his secretary's attempt at subtlety. "… Alright, tell him to go home and play with his mother and father's corpses, then."

And so, with trepidation, Kabuto Yakushi did exactly that.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sasuke replied, fists clenched firmly in indignation. "What did you just say?" His voice reverberated around the polished waiting room, causing a stout looking man to drop his steaming cup of tea with a squeak on to the exotic Persian rug. Kabuto sighed heavily, offering a consolatory shrug of the shoulders. Consolatory, yet utterly useless – that man would undoubtedly be 'made redundant' by an irate Orochimaru, doubtlessly ranting about the importance of respecting beauty.

Apparently, Sasuke felt absolutely no remorse about causing a man to lose his job, and instead repeated his question, taking a step forward and gathering up Kabuto's collar in his shaking fists. The secretary merely sighed again and shook his head to the greatest extent his situation would allow.

"He's terribly stubborn, and his answer was a definitive 'no'. I am sorry, though."

The boy let out an inelegant noise of irritation, dropping Kabuto. "Look – do you know why? Madara can't be paying him _that _much; my uncle is a stingy… a stingy bastard."

Having had no idea what was going on, Kabuto's ears perked up instantly at the mention of the Uchiha leader, and glanced furtively towards Orochimaru's door. Satisfied that he was probably not being watched, he lowered his tone and bent in towards Sasuke.

"Look, I don't know what's going on at all – you, however do. Tell me everything and I suspect I could probably plead your case better with Lord Orochimaru." It was his duty to protect his boss, after all, and he could hardly do that when he wasn't privy to all of his actions and consorts, and if there was ever a dangerous business partner, it was Madara Uchiha. Not that Kabuto knew how the two knew each other, nor why his boss spent so much time at the Uchihas' building, nor why he worked for Madara for what was essentially very little money.

Sasuke, meanwhile, felt the first glimmer of hope he had since being so cruelly shot down the previous day. "Whatever you want to know, I'll do my best to supply the information."

The two young men nodded at each other conspiratorially, the elder handing over the name of what Sasuke assumed to be a restaurant scribbled on a piece of paper. The secretary had the handwriting of a doctor, he thought wryly.

"Be there tomorrow at 1 – if I'm late, you need only consider who my boss is." He stated simply before turning on his heel and marching back into Orochimaru's office through the needlessly decorated door.

Sasuke stood still for a moment before letting out the smallest of smiles. He'd get Itachi, even if it took him years, and he'd do it legally.

A suspiciously bright light awoke Itachi, and upon opening his eyes and sitting up with a jerk, he found himself face to face with a blue man holding an oil lamp. He let out a noise of alarm and backed away with surprising grace, given he had been asleep not 10 seconds previously. Realising that acting so uncharacteristically concerned would get him nowhere; he straightened his back and adopted a face of nonchalance.

The blue man smiled disconcertingly, revealing rows upon rows of pearly white, serrated teeth. "Mornin' sunshine!"

Itachi coughed in spite of himself, not quite sure what to make of the oddly coloured man in his cell. "Good… morning?"

They stared at each other in a slightly awkward state for a while before the blue man punctuated the silence again. "I'm Kisame."

"That's… that's nice." Again, Itachi mentally scolded himself for coming across as so ineloquent – this was most unlike him, yet depressingly he simply couldn't muster the energy to present himself with any dignity. "… Itachi. Itachi U—"

"Uchiha, right?" Kisame barked a laugh and clapped a hand on Itachi's shoulder before unexpectedly helping him up. "There probably isn't a soul here that doesn't know that name."

Itachi paused, recalling with a sombre frown that thanks to the publicity his crime and trial had attracted, indeed, he would need no introduction. He had originally hoped that at least incarcerated, he would not be so recognized but apparently this jail was well informed.

He looked over to his blue companion, who was eyeing him up and down curiously and upon seeing Itachi's slightly downcast face, he stopped this immediately. "Say, want some lunch?"

This question caught Itachi off guard. He barely remembered what Konan had told him the day before, but he was certain that the lunch hour was around midday. "Is… is it really that late?"

"You normally an early bird then? You've been asleep since something crazy like eight yesterday. Eight! Say, did you know…"

Itachi let himself be led out of his cell by his new friend, if he could be called that, far too dazed to really object to or question anything he was presented with. He was vaguely aware of walking down a series of dark corridors, lined with cells much like his own before ascending a flight of stairs he could not recall descending the previous day. If someone asked Itachi where he thought he was, he'd probably have given them a blank stare, and quietly he hoped that his blue skinned companion would stay with him long enough to guide him back to his cell. He did not fancy asking any of the other prisoners for assistance.

Indeed, his 'fellow' criminals had done nothing but eye him with dark grins and offer up tasteless comments concerning the Uchiha massacre. Some had even shouted approving congratulations to him, which had left the dazed Itachi feeling truly sick to his stomach.

Throughout the journey, he had been in a state of half thought. Whilst he was uncertain exactly how this 'Kisame' just happily waltzed into his cell which was supposed to be high security, he couldn't bring himself to ask. Instead, giving up on contemplation, he listened passively to his talkative companion's words, absorbing absolutely nothing with a resigned bow of the head.

"This is the rest of my life…?" He muttered quietly to himself, instantly silencing Kisame. He had not meant to say that aloud.

His companion eyed him with something half way between surprise and pity. "It's not too bad – really." They met eyes, and Itachi found himself surprised by the honesty which Kisame had managed to summon up in his smile. "Really, that's a promise."

**The amount of Itachi in this fic will ****increase exponentially from this point on, now that he's so happily settled in jail.**

**Awww, who's a good little friend making Uchiha~? *wibble***


	3. Put that truncheon down, boy!

**I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD GO TO MY dA ACCOUNT AND CHECK OUT MY HYPER COOL POKEMON TRAINER ORO FANART.**

**Or, you could, y'know, ignore my shameless self avocation. Seriously though, Pokemon HeartGold is my life (does anyone want an Eevee? I have a box full of them… xD)**

**Though, thanks to everyone for the reviews, favourites, alerts etc. Seeing my email notifications over these makes me far too happy for my own good.**

**Regardless, chapter three~! This was significantly easier to write thanks to it being highly Itachi and Orochimaru centric without the need to worry about Sasuke, Madara and biscuits. Initially this meeting wasn't going to go quite so well, but I thought I'd give Itachi something pleasant to keep himself distracted from the misery of an 19****th**** century jail. **

**Also, don't worry about KisaIta, that wouldn't be rearing its ugly head anywhere near here 3 However, there'll be some friendship going on. I do like the two of them as friends, after all. Kisame, you surfer dude…**

**As a general note, this fic will roughly follow canon's direction (but there are some pretty big differences, notably that Itachi isn't staying by Madara's side post massacre like he did in the series etc).**

…**Hurrah for highly influential bastards!**

When he had first heard the term 'prison lunch', Itachi had assumed it would consist of men shepherded into lines in order to wait for their dirty bowl of gruel. Therefore, he was slightly surprised to see inmates freely wandering around, the odd fist fight breaking out in various corners of the vast lunch hall. Surprisingly, trays were piled up with what looked to be fairly respectable pieces of bread, a bowl of soup each and some staple main course.

Painfully aware of the biting winter cold, Itachi folded his arms over the standard issue prison garments he had been issued in a token effort to warm himself up. To his side, Kisame let out a contended sigh and walked off to what appeared to be a tray bank, motioning for Itachi to follow him. "Best way to not get roughed up by prison is to have friends, so I'll introduce you to the guys, okay?"

Whilst not particularly enthusiastic about meeting a crew of ill intentioned, possibly insane inmates, Itachi masked it with an indifferent nod and noise of consent. He picked up a tray which was unsurprisingly dirty; presumably it hadn't been washed in a while of usage. Apparently, he did not disguise his displeasure over this so well, as Kisame laughed.

"This isn't the Uchiha mansion, I'm afraid."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Itachi replied with a slight frown, generally unused to people of a lower stature than himself even so much as smiling too much in his presence.

After a brief saunter over to a generally disorganised queue, he found himself with a bowl of mystery soup and a plate of mystery meat. Whilst it wasn't gruel, it still wasn't particularly appetising. Clearly, he had things he would have to get used to.

Looking up from his tray, his eyes caught Kisame's distinctly blue hue and sizeable form walking off with purpose towards one of the far tables. Assuming that the people seated there were his 'friends', Itachi checked himself to make sure he was suitably unreadable, and followed his companion. Upon his approach, the people at the table stopped entirely and turned to him with hostile expressions.

"Kisame, there's a stray dog behind you. Might want to send it packing." An arrogant looking, long-haired blonde boy barked out, proceeding to shove a piece of bread into his face.

Another man, young yet alarmingly silver haired, laughed and shot Itachi a smug grin, "Piss off, Mary. We ain't got room for pretty boy brats in Akatsuki."

There was a murmur of support for this notion, and the seated men made sure to spread themselves out into an empty space so that Itachi could not sit down. After the initial disgust had died down, Kisame sighed and set down his tray, intending to address the motley crew.

"Guys, don't be that way. This is Itachi Uchiha," There was noted interest at his name, Itachi observed to his disgust, "I thought he'd fit in pretty well with us – c'mon, at least let him sit down."

"Woah, _he's_ with you? Radical."

"The fuck? Uchiha? This guy?"

A blanket of silence fell on to the 'Akatsuki' as they all fixed Itachi with dirty glowers, and eventually a red haired man who had previously made no noise turned to Itachi. "Very well, introduce yourself. My name is Nagato, by the way."

Having been insulted by a bunch of low brow ruffians, Itachi was not impressed and so met the speaker's eyes with a disgruntled glare. Briefly, he glanced around the table at the ruffians, refusing to back down from any of their stares before he spoke slowly, addressing each one of them deliberately. "It is clear that you scum do not think highly of me. So be it, I have little interest in this little club of yours-"

"-But-" Kisame interjected in what sounded like desperation, only to be cut off by the irritated Uchiha.

"- so it is up to you to prove that _you_ are worth _my _time. That is all." He finished, before turning on his heels briskly and stalking away to an unoccupied table. While he expected angry shouts to follow him, he was pleasantly surprised that the 'Akatsuki' didn't seem too interested in verbally abusing him. Instead, one Kisame trotted up behind him, apparently spewing what, interestingly, sounded like praises.

"I'm sorry about them, they've never been great with new guys. Though, that certainly was something! I don't think I've ever seen anyone stand up to the Akatsuki in full force, um, can I call you Itachi-san?"

Apparently, he had a new fan. "Hn. Do whatever you like."

"Great! Mind if I have lunch with you? I don't really want to have to deal with the atmosphere over on the base table, so…"

Whatever Kisame said next, Itachi totally blocked out as quietly his thoughts turned to his little brother. He certainly needed _something_ to keep himself occupied, as going insane would thoroughly destroy the point of his penance. After all, he was not in jail to have fun, he recalled with a heavy wave of guilt washing over him.

With a glance at his pocket watch, elegantly encrusted with small silver snakes, Orochimaru determined that he would have to gather up every inch of his self control and courage.

Longingly, he stared into the dancing flames of the fireplace and let out a drawling sigh. "Kabuto, could you perchance rearrange the meeting?"

"I'm sorry sir. The carriage is ready for you, and the prison is expecting your arrival."

Again, the lawyer sighed. After a few seconds of deliberation, he pulled himself to his feet and held his snake themed cane tightly in his left hand. With a haughty eyebrow arch directed at his secretary, he made his way over to the clothing stand with fluid motions and pulled on his favourite furred coat with a smile. Moving up on to his tip toes, he just about managed to reach his, again, highly ornamental furry hat.

Expectantly, he turned to Kabuto with a hopeful look, who, after a moment of exasperation, obediently placed it on his head for him. "Sir, really, you won't need to be outside that long."

"Kabuto. In case you had failed to notice, it is extremely cold today. Indecently cold, I might add. You know that I do not like chill weather," and when his secretary looked like he was about to speak, Orochimaru continued with his little tirade, "and whilst indeed, I may not be outside for what is classified as a 'long time', that _place_ is a failure in terms of heating, and whilst my carriage is indeed complete with thick, furred walls and heating contraptions, in this weather, it shall still be _cold_."

There was a pause. "Well, Orochimaru-sama, when you overheat, I will not be sympathetic to your plight."

"Very well. As I shall still be cold when I get back," he replied pointedly, fixing his subordinate with a sharp glare, "I fully expect the highest quality tea to be awaiting me. Adieu, Kabuto."

And with that, he swept out of the room, his cane leaving a rhythmical series of noises hanging in the air as it came down upon the wooden floor of his office.

Sighing, Kabuto turned to the telephone and prepared to make arrangements for his boss' return, getting the feeling that he would need at least two hours to make things sufficiently pleasing.

After all, he was likely to come back in a foul mood, it being the hour of his first visiting Itachi Uchiha.

It was indeed cold in his carriage, and so Orochimaru found himself huddled up to the right wall, in which a heating mechanism was discreetly hidden. In his curled up position, he projected that the journey would take a good half hour allowing him plenty of time for thought gathering and strategising.

As far as he knew, Itachi Uchiha was a morally upright, generally pleasant person if quite quiet. He also adored his younger brother from what Madara had hinted at, and he intended to make full use of this weakness of his. Exactly how much he would have to nag at the boy until he accepted this plan for his release was uncertain, however, Orochimaru assumed that he would not want to be acquitted given he had handed himself in.

He heaved a sigh. While he did not doubt that he was more than capable of keeping Itachi in the palm of his hand, it was more the Madara problem that concerned him. Exactly what he wanted was still uncertain, in fact, what he had originally hoped to gain from the massacre was unclear. Hopefully he would find out through gently coaxing Itachi – that was, if he even knew the full story at all.

Deciding it was far too cold to worry, he settled for sitting quietly, lightly playing with the ring, engraved with an eastern character meaning 'sky', around his little finger. It had certainly bought him some degree of trouble in the past, he mused.

When the carriage finally stopped, he hurtled in order to escape the cold, out of the vehicle and into the prison with as much velocity as could still be considered elegant and stalked into the main office.

A fat man was waiting for him smoking a pipe in front of a roaring fireplace, and Orochimaru, in his uncomfortably cold state, had to resist the urge to punch the man in the face and stick him headfirst in the flames. Fortunately, while his temper was legendary, he was generally better behaved around the prison than he otherwise would be.

The man, who must have been a new prison manager as Orochimaru had never seen him before, popped the pipe out from under his moustache and gave the slightly deranged looking lawyer a wary look. "Ah, Orochimaru-sama?" When he received a haughty sniff in response, he assumed he was correct and rolled himself out of his arm chair. "I'll send someone to fetch the boy. Uh, does he know that you're coming to see him?"

"I should hope not. That would rather imply he was some carnival freak with psychic abilities." Orochimaru replied through narrowed eyes at the jolly old man. He never could look at the unattractive without instantly becoming slightly nastier than usual – he blamed it on an excellent eye for beauty.

After a few moments of silence filled by the phone's rotating dial, the man barked an order into the receiver and placed it down a few moments later.

"I trust I shall be meeting him in Room One?" Orochimaru managed with some degree of civility, feeling slightly warmer and therefore more pleasant after standing in the room for a while.

"Indeed, sir. We would give you no less. Please inform the guard as to whatever refreshments you would like."

This cheered the lawyer up immensely, and soon he found himself more excited by the prospect of a steaming cup of tea than meeting his new client. Indeed, as he followed his escort down the hallway to the questioning room (if the luxurious suite could be called that) he was barely able to suppress a small smile as his briefcase holding hand tightened around the gilded handle in glee.

After managing to swallow his lunch with no degree of pleasure, Itachi had made his way back to his cell with Kisame's aid, doing his best to make absolutely no conversation. While had entered his living quarters with the full intent of lying back on his straw mattress of a bed, this plan had been cut short by the presence of a bouncy looking blonde teenager sitting on his wooden bench.

Apparently, this teenager was a guard, as he was sporting the uniform. "Itachi Uchiha-" he started, buckling under the intense glare he got from the aforementioned, "I… uh… There's a guy here to see you. Come with me!"

This instantly put Itachi on his guard. Who would want to see him? Madara was the only person that sprung to mind as he highly doubted his precious little brother would want to come anywhere near him and he didn't exactly have friends.

Not wanting to see his uncle in the slightest, he snorted obstinately. "I doubt anyone worth seeing would be here. Leave."

The guard apparently had more guts than his youth projected and stood his ground, fingering the truncheon that hung at his belt. "I'm authorised to use force, ya know."

From behind him, Itachi heard Kisame whistle sarcastically. However, not wanting to cause a scene, nor wanting to be beaten with a splintered piece of wood, Itachi paused and nodded quietly. Clearly, he had little say in the matter.

The teenager brightened visibly at not having to attack the man in front of him and leapt off the bench with a surprising spark. "Follow me, then."

"See you later, Itachi-san! Go get 'em!" Kisame's voice came after him, apparently trying to offer him some form of misguided sympathy.

"Hn."

Itachi wasn't sure how long they walked for, but eventually they stopped in front of a rather impressive looking door. The guard motioned that he should stop, to which he complied, and then knocked on the door gently. He slipped in after an appropriate space of time had elapsed to announce himself and Itachi, closing the door behind him so the Uchiha could not see who his visitor was. Not that he needed to, he had already assured himself earlier that it was his bastard uncle.

A good minute later, the guard slipped out again with a pleased looking smile on his face. Odd, most people came out of the same room as Madara looking traumatised. Much to Itachi's surprise he then asked him if he fancied refreshments.

"P-pardon?" He almost spluttered. He was fairly sure he was meant to be incarcerated, and getting offered tea and biscuits was hardly an appropriate thing for a prisoner. However, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Itachi nodded. "Earl grey, please."

"Milk or sugar?" The guard replied with a bright smile.

"…Neither." He replied, slightly dubious of the situation. Perhaps Madara had told the teenager to make him feel comfortable so that whatever his uncle had in store for him seemed doubly horrific by comparison…? That must have been it. However, he was not about to reject tea on account of _him_.

The boy nodded. "Please, go in. Your lawyer is waiting."

Steeling himself, Itachi took in a deep breath and prepared to meet his uncle- "Wait, what, _lawyer_?"

And with that, the teenager pushed open the oak door, giving Itachi his first look of the room inside. He was fairly certain that this room was anything but a typical jail room, indeed, the décor looked more suited to something like his uncle's office expanses with the dark wooden panelling, blazing fireplace and comfortable looking chairs. A large window to the side offered a glimpse of the outside cityscape, covered in a blanket of snow, from the confines of two tastefully embroidered curtains.

Itachi had been prepared never to even catch sight of such beautiful interior design again, and so was slightly overwhelmed. However, the room itself paled in comparison to exactly who had been awaiting his arrival.

Waiting for him in the centre of luxury was a man who he'd seen before, but never failed to dazzle. Orochimaru, or so he remembered his name to be, sat perched in an ornately carved chair at a comfortably sized table, delicately sipping milky tea. His effeminately long hair was swept up into an intricate bun like style complete with various gem-encrusted eastern head pieces, stray strands of hair falling down framing his sinfully attractive visage. That face offered him a slight smirk from half way into the room.

"Ah, Itachi. I do not believe we have had the pleasure of conversing in the past for any expanse of time exceeding a minute so… shall we begin with introductions?" Orochimaru spoke with extreme fluency - unsurprising for a high class lawyer, Itachi mentally reminded himself. He had no need for lawyers, not when he deserved nothing but the worst the world could offer him, and so he resolved to keep this meeting short and final, no matter how charming a companion the other seemed to be.

He let a few seconds go by before replying, and soon realised there was a steady tick coming from somewhere. This suited his purposes just fine – Itachi fully intended for this meeting to be tense and awkward. "Itachi Uchiha, I doubt I need any more introduction than that." Apparently, the lawyer desired that he say more, and so he intended to humour his wish. "Country renowned mass murderer. Nice to meet you. Again."

"Ah, yes." Orochimaru responded with a slight frown. Clearly, he recalled Itachi to be slightly different from the limited number of times they had met through his uncle. "I am uncertain as to how much you recall of me, so I suppose I shall deal with an introduction and statement of intent in one fell swoop." He paused, and looked pointedly at the chair at the opposite side of the table to him. "I strongly suggest you sit down." He managed with an amicable smile.

Itachi complied without thinking, his two day withdrawal from anything but prison seats overpowering his self imposed penal regime. Once he had made himself comfortable, he motioned that the alabaster skinned man should continue which he did after a sip of his tea.

"I am sure you remember this much, but I am somewhat of your uncle's private lawyer. My name is Orochimaru, again, I suspect you recall that much-"

"I don't remember ordering a lawyer." Itachi interjected brazenly, staring intently into the other man's golden irises. They seemed brighter than he remembered from a year ago, and the way the fireplace's light danced in them made Orochimaru seem far too ethereal to be real. Perhaps that was the case – this was all one, alarmingly detailed dream on Itachi's part. He snorted inwardly at his foolish thought.

"Quite. I am, after all, under your uncle's orders. Not yours." He managed out with a tighr smile over the rim of his tea cup. Apparently he hadn't expected Itachi to be quite so uncooperative. "Regardlesss, it is my job to see you out of this pathetic excuse for a place of confinement."

Itachi arched an eyebrow and leaned forward. "I bet it is. My uncle can't have been to happy about my going against his 'foolproof' plan. Too bad I have no intention of leaving prison, so you can skip off back to wherever you came from and make Madara some tea or something."

"I assure you, Itachi my boy, I have no intention of 'skipping off'. That simply would not be congruent with my own plans."

There was a deathly silence as the two men glared at each other, their clashing ideals almost tangible. It was probably a good thing that the blonde haired prison guard bounded back into the room, wheeling a tiered tray packed with tea and cakes. Indeed, he appeared to be totally incapable of reading the mood, as he made himself busy with serving the items with a grin on his face, humming all the while, apparently happy to be working with people other than rough inmates.

Itachi was forced to break out of the staring contest when his cup of tea was placed in front of him, and he turned to give his thanks to the enthusiastic boy. Orochimaru was not so gracious when a slice of cake appeared in front of him, and he instead continued staring at Itachi, giving a very searching look indeed. In fact, it appeared that almost all of his irritation had subsided and had been relpaced with a highly pensive mood.

Once the guard had satisfied himself with arranging their tea, he bounded out the door with a "If you need anything else, I'll be outside!" leaving the two to their prior discussion.

Orochimaru, with something apparently having sprung to mind, spoke first with the most serious face Itachi had ever seen him wear. "I wonder, Itachi, exactly how well have you thought this situation through…?"

The Uchiha narrowed his eyes, suddenly not comfortable with where this was going. He wasn't entirely sure how long he could keep up his pretence of being standoffish and impolite, it was, all, a first for him. "What needs to be thought about? I killed people. It follows that I go to jail and stay there."

"I wonder, is it such a grand idea to just leave your uncle unchecked after, I presume, plotting this sordid affair?"

It was always about Madara, apparently. "He can look after himself."

Orochimaru chuckled, briefly lost in an apparently amusing thought. "I wonder. However, that is not my concern nor should it be yours. My thoughts were in fact turning to a certain little brother."

Itachi wondered if his face paled at that; he certainly felt slightly ill. He had indeed not considered that his bastard uncle might try to get at Sasuke, and the more he thought about it, the more he realised that the only thing that had been stopping him in the past was himself. That little obstacle had just been removed.

The room fell silent until Itachi spoke again. "If he wants to use Sasuke… then why is Madara bothering with getting me out of jail?"

"Indeed, his actions certainly are curious," Orochimaru replied, distractedly fiddling with his teacup apparently delighting in the melodic noises the porcelain produced, "however, it would be my guess that he is subtly using Sasuke as a threat and before you consider it, given who we are dealing with, your brother's situation is almost certainly not a cooincidence. If you do not comply with the plans for your release, he will have full access to Sasuke whilst you selfishly sit around here. If you do agree, he shall be once again under your protection."

Itachi hated to admit it, but the man was horribly right. He could think of no other way to protect his little brother short of getting out of prison and doing it himself. However, that said, would Sasuke ever be able to put his trust in the brother who killed his parents? The situation seemed somewhat hopeless, but doing nothing would surely be the worst course of action. "Orochimaru-san…" He finally managed, feeling that he had long since lost his standoffish persona making the honourific more relevant, "I don't know how you think you're going to get me out of here, and I certainly don't deserve it. However… if it's for my brother…"

The pale skinned lawyer let out an airily contented laugh, still playing with his teacup. "Ah, well, I confess I am glad that you see reason. I was rather worrying as to whether I would have to take more drastic measures given how disagreeable you were being…" Honestly, Itachi didn't doubt that the effeminate man opposite him had enough power to make his life in prison a living misery despite his delicate looks. Lawyers often seemed to have a high degree of influence over the incarcerated; they were after all the ones who put them there in the first place.

"I assume that there is something great in all this for you to gain? You said it yourself, you were worried." Having said this, Itachi realised that he had not touched his tea. Not wanting to offend the poor guard, he quickly grabbed it and took a sip much to the lawyer's amusement. Over the rim of his teacup, he could swear he saw a dangerous flash in the other's golden eyes.

"What I want? Ahh, well, you do seem to have some form of a brain in there somewhere. I am positive that you will reach some level of understanding soon enough…" Orochimaru trailed off and reached for a pleasantly wrapped tea cake and popped it into his mouth. After a slightly questionable sounding noise of delight (Itachi suspected this was fully intentional), he appeared to snap back into a more business like frame of mind. "Now, arrangements. As I take this as an acquiescence from you, I shall do my utmost best to request a retrial from the judge. Normally, you could expect to wait for six months, however, given that I am me and your case is such a well publicised one, the maximum you would have to wait is probably," he paused to calculate, "three months."

This did not sit well with Itachi at all, and for the first time in a while he raised his voice. "Three months? Madara could do untold damage to Sasuke in that period of time!"

"The world of justice is a harsh one. However, from what I have had the," worryingly, his eyes clouded over as though recalling a moment of triumph, "fortune of witnessing, Madara does not appear too bothered over your brother. That is, in all likelihood, arrogance given he knows he has time. Anyway, now that he knows that he shall be getting you back, Sasuke will not seem like such a priority."

Itachi furrowed his brows in concern, his fears not exactly alleviated. "I'm damaged goods – initially he wanted influence over me so I could be used to direct the future dealings of the Uchiha. I doubt that now that I've confessed to a murder I would work so well as a business man. You'd have to be mad to trust me."

Orochimaru only laughed, apparently having picked up on something or other throughout the conversation. "Heavens, you certainly are not used to talking so much, are you?"

"…Hn." The Uchiha bristled, wondering exactly what he was doing that was out of place.

"To alleviate your concerns, Itachi, I think you underestimate my prowess as a lawyer. Earning your acquittal shall be the most perfect display of rhetorical ability I have ever displayed – you shall have people lining up to come and trust you: the saint, falsely accused of a horrific crime," his eyes were shining disconcertingly, and Itachi realised that clearly this man was as nasty a piece of work as his uncle, one who delighed in deception, "Oh, please do not give me that look."

"I was just wondering how many murderers, rapists and thieves are wondering around the streets because of you."

"Quite a few, I should venture. For the record, your uncle is one of them."

This came as news to Itachi – he wasn't aware that Madara had been commiting any crimes, with the exception of the massacre, beyond being a first rate bastard. Alarmed, his thoughts turned back to his brother with a great deal of unease. "Look, is there anything you could do for Sasuke? You seem to be with my uncle quite a lot, so could you keep him occupied, or—" He was cut off before he could finish.

"I venture I could even keep your brother busy at my offices – you know, he was seeking my help to get you the death penalty?" Orochimaru replied, without a doubt deriving far too much pleasure from the horrendous amount of family drama and strife.

Unsurprised, however, Itachi nodded. Whilst he wasn't too enthusiastic about having the man opposite him influencing his brother, he was, sadly, the only person he could turn to. It was probably infinitely better that way than leaving Sasuke around the house to wallow in the certain despair he was feeling, or to leave him with Madara. "Sounds good."

After a brief pause during which the lawyer appeared to make a mental note to himself, Orochimaru gave Itachi a secretive smile, eyes glittering almost as much as the various shiny acessories he had on. The Uchiha was suddenly made aware of quite how pathetic he must look before the other man in his striped prison wear, with a doubtlessly dirty face, messy hair… Not having seen his own relfection in a while, the mental image of himself got worse the more he thought about it.

"You know, Itachi," he was suddenly aware of a serious streak making its way into Orochimaru's previously light tone, "I'm grateful for your trust. It's rare I get any."

Not quite sure what to say, Itachi nodded again and opted for remaining quiet on the matter. It was strange hearing Orochimaru contract his words and speak in such a non-embellished manner, though he decided he quite liked it. It certainly made the man seem more reachable.

With a mutual feeling of finality Orochimaru stood up, his purple tail coat swishing dramatically behind him. "I am," noting the lack of contraction, Itachi sighed. Clearly the man had difficulty speaking in any way other than his ridiculously flowery manner, "not sure we have much more that can be said. As I am a highly busy man, I must be going. Howver, you can expect me to visit you soon with some news, plans and probably a few gifts. Lord knows you look like you need something to cheer you up."

Itachi almost sighed again. Clearly he looked as bad as he felt. "I appreciate it."

"So you should." And with a final smirk, Orochimaru turned on his heel and waltzed out the second door into the room, opposite where Itachi had entered, grabbing his fur coat from its stand as he went.

Itachi, unsure what to do with himself for a while, took a few more sips of tea and furtively nabbed a teacake, relishing in its creamy texture. Finally, supposing he ought to let the blonde guard know that they were finished, he opened the door he had originally come though to find the boy grinning widely as he ate what Itachi supposed were stolen cakes. Sympathising totally, he offered the boy a little smile.

"We're finished, uh…?"

The boy's grin widened upon realising that the oddly kind prisoner wasn't about to tell his superiors that he had been stealing refreshments, "Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki! I'll take you back to your cell so follow me."

"Thank you."

Upon returning to his cell and bidding farewell to Naruto, he sat on his wooden bench. Upon looking up across the corridor to the cell opposite him, he was surprised to see Kisame waving.

"I wasn't aware you were opposite." Itachi started, grateful that the distance didn't merit raising his voice.

Kisame looked vaguely surprised before realising why. "Oh, yeah, when not with me, you've pretty much been asleep the whole time you've been here. Who wanted to see you?"

Itachi paused before answering. He didn't want to say it was his lawyer, after all, he didn't want to give his jailmate the impression that he was running away from prison life. "He was… a friend, I suppose."

Again, Kisame looked vaguely confused, not entirely grasping the situation. "Huh. You suppose? Do you not like him or something…?"

Again, he was uncertain how to reply. Frankly, he didn't know himself what he thought of Orochimaru, he hardly knew him, after all. Then again, he had been perfectly amicable to Itachi throughout most of the meeting, and he was certainly a character. Smiling slightly, he raised his eyes to meet Kisame's. "Absolutely not. I think I'm quite fond of him already."

"… Man, I don't get you."

"You don't need to." Itachi replied, and despite the worries that were now constantly plaguing his mind, things were slowly beginning to look more positive.

**Oro has far too much money. **


	4. Let's grow some flowers

**This is totally not horribly late.**

**My life has been ruled by cosplay these last few months - cosplay, exams and a sudden love of Pokemon, photoshop and Deviantart in combination. Though, fear not, I never forgot about this~! Summer holidays and a relaxed period in study leave are coming up, so chapters should get more frequent (or at least not quite so horribly spread across months...)**

**I have a bad habit of leaving Itachi out of chapters. That'll stop... eventually. Actually, he features plenty next chapter, what with some love love development (hah, not exactly, however). **

**Shit's beginning to go down, yo. RATED M FOR MADARA (... it's not actually M-deserving, but that _is _the first letter of his name, so~)**

* * *

Kabuto probably could have died of a heart attack when his boss came back positively skipping with glee. The cold weather apparently thoroughly forgotten, Orochimaru wore a suspiciously triumphant smirk. Throughout his years of working for the man, Kabuto had ascertained that his boss had a smirk for every mood ranging from actually feeling smug to extreme depression. The exultant one he wore at that moment, however, was probably the most fear-striking he had ever seen. A happy Orochimaru generally meant someone had died, lost a lot of money, or had caught consumption and was going to die soon anyway.

"Orochimaru-sama… are you feeling okay?"

"Kabuto, I currently find myself in such a fabulous mood that even spending an hour in a room with Jiraiya would not seem like such a bad idea."

Kabuto felt his brows furrow in worry; someone had _definitely _died – the last time Jiraiya had been near his boss, priceless objects had been smashed and a few had been hospitalised. Perhaps poor Itachi had committed suicide upon realising the hopelessness of his plight?

And then the unthinkable happened: out of his own volition, Orochimaru quite happily sat down and began doing paperwork. Kabuto didn't think that such a thing had _ever_ happened as he generally had to force his boss to work with threats of withholding information, or if the situation was really dire, tea.

A stunned silence hung in the air before Kabuto, thoroughly disturbed, decided he should creep out in case his boss pulled out one of his many cleverly concealed pistols and randomly shot him from across the room. Lord knows his aim was, suspiciously, good enough. However, on his way to the door, he was stopped by the sound of Orochimaru's voice.

"Oh, this is going to be so much _fun_!" he practically sung. Looking over at the desk, Kabuto ascertained that he was reading over all known information about the massacre.

Curious, the silver haired secretary turned around to ask his boss a few things. "I take it the meeting went well?"

When his only response was a suggestive little smirk, he took it to mean 'beyond well'. That was a bit of a relief and a slight surprise, given the two of them had anticipated that Itachi would be somewhat difficult to handle.

Almost as though he sensed Kabuto's thoughts, Orochimaru offered an explanation. "Sasuke-kun, it seems, is going to be invaluable in my bringing Itachi to heel." He paused, smiling a little to himself, "You know, I was right about him being too nice a person? Even though he killed his family, Itachi is still that same irritatingly pleasant boy I met five years ago, and that will help me to no end. That in itself proves that the massacre was not done with murderous intent-"

"Sir, I don't think you can walk into court and say 'Itachi didn't do it because he's nice'." Kabuto interjected, highly sceptical.

Orochimaru gave a bitter expression at the interjection. "Let me finish, child. Thanks to that, I know for a fact that I can place all of the blame on Madara, get him in jail and hopefully killed, and then have full access to the Uchiha Company's wealth and connections through an eternally grateful Itachi and Sasuke. As I said before, this is going to be _fun_."

_Oh god, another crazy plan… _the secretary mused to himself, already feeling a headache ensuing. It was thanks to that kind of ambition that Kabuto was so fond of his boss in the special, strange way he was. However, he was not entirely convinced about the logistics, nor was he enthusiastic about putting the plan into motion. He took it as his job to stop Orochimaru from doing _entirely_ foolish things. "Sir, what if Itachi did do it?"

"That changes nothing. If I have Sasuke in my hands, which I have decided I shall and so I will, he wouldn't dare admit to it again. All it means is that I might have to lie a little, which, I think you will agree, is no great change for me. Either way, I fully intend for Madara to end up either shamed, in prison, or dead. Preferably all three." With that, he returned to his papers, probably building his entire case in his head as he went along.

Deciding that he was probably no longer needed, Kabuto thought he would return home. After all, he had a Sasuke to meet at lunch the next day. He had considered telling his boss about that, but before all that, he thought he'd use the boy to learn a few new things. It wasn't just Orochimaru that was good at scheming, he thought to himself.

Before he could leave, however, he was stopped for the second time. "Ah, Kabuto, I am going shopping tomorrow. I want you to call the prison and arrange things so that Itachi is permitted various luxury goods including half decent clothes. Surplus washes would be good, too. The thought of only being permitted a bath, or in his case hose-down, once every two days is far too much for me to bear," and as his boss continued naming various privileges he expected his secretary to get for his client just like that, Kabuto sighed. In many ways, this was far worse than a grumpy, cold Orochimaru, "… I doubt anything can be done about the distasteful prison food, but I do want permission for him to be allowed snacks."

"Sir… you wouldn't happen to be somewhat… fond of Itachi already, would you?" The silver haired boy asked incredulously, in slight awe of the lengths he was going to make his client possible. He knew his boss was fairly swift at becoming enamoured with the first attractive person he saw regardless of pithy things like gender, age or availability, but really, he was fairly sure that there was some law against lawyers and clients.

Not to mention Madara; Kabuto didn't think he was good at sharing.

"I confess I am not entirely sure. He is really quite sweet…" Orochimaru trailed off, apparently thinking all too seriously about involving himself with Itachi. "Anyway, off you go. I do not want the prison to confiscate whatever I buy for him tomorrow."

Sighing, Kabuto trudged off with an affirmative noise. So much for getting home and having a night to himself.

* * *

The next day, Sasuke paced the length of the restaurant nervously, having already spent a good ten minutes fretting at the table. He was expecting a waitress to come and sit him down, but until that happened he fully intended to continue his worried movements.

Kabuto – he knew he shouldn't have trusted him – was half an hour late. Was this an attempt to unnerve him? Surely Orochimaru wouldn't keep his subordinates during their lunch hour; that seemed all too inhumane. Clearly, he had been stood up. This was just another example of the world out to take Sasuke Uchiha's hope, step on it, and then feed the remains to his brother for his probably lavish jail-tea.

Where would he even go if this fell through? Back to Orochimaru, and this time not leave until he was properly accepted? Sasuke was so engrossed in his self doubt that he did not notice when Kabuto finally walked into the café, snow stuck to his clothing and hair.

He was unsurprised to find the young Uchiha pacing, and, although it was an entertaining sight, he made himself known with a cough and a slight wave of the hand. "Sorry for my tardiness – the boss had me carrying things back to the office post his spontaneous shopping trip."

Despite being unimpressed, Sasuke merely nodded. That story didn't sound particularly far-fetched, given what he'd already seen of the wanton lawyer. Really, didn't his parents bring him up with even a slither of decency? Kabuto appeared to have followed this chain of thoughts and gave him a look which clearly read 'exasperating, isn't he?'

Once the two had seated themselves comfortably with necessary food and drink, Sasuke opened the conversation. He did not want to waste any more time. "How much do you know about all this?"

"Less than I would like. Your brother supposedly killed your family," Kabuto was surprised that the boy didn't flinch there; perhaps he was getting used to the idea of most of his family dying. "Bizarrely, he left you and your uncle alive. He handed himself in… And now my boss finds himself working for Madara to get him out of jail."

Sasuke nodded thoughtfully. It had not quite clicked in his mind that that was the purpose of Orochimaru working for Madara, but he refused to let Kabuto know that. "That sounds about right. I can fill you in on a few things. Anything in particular?"

Interested, Kabuto leaned forward, whipping out a notebook and pen. He ignored the raised eyebrow he got for this: making notes was very much something he enjoyed and took great pride in. It was this organisation that kept him as secretary, after all. "How much do you know about the relationship between my boss and Madara?"

Sasuke blushed immediately as though recounting a slightly lewd memory. "They—uh… Well, they don't seem to stop at a professional relationship, for starters. Though, I didn't get the impression Orochimaru was happy where he was. Kinda like he had something hanging over him that kept him in my uncle's servitude. Might just be me imagining things, though, I mean, I wasn't really with the two of them for long…"

Kabuto nodded. That much was congruent with what he'd managed to work out from his boss' reactions, not having met Madara himself. However, it did not seem that Sasuke knew much more along those lines. "Alright, let's keep this swift. Motives. I want a good reason why your brother would have killed your family. On top of that… a reason why your uncle would."

Startled, Sasuke tensed in his chair. Apparently he had given any gravity to the thought that his uncle could have been too deeply involved in the plot, "My brother… I really don't know. He's insane – I just know he did it."

"Why is that?"

"Well, I don't know, maybe the fact that I saw him standing above my parents' bodies with a smoking gun in his hand?"

_Fair enough_, Kabuto thought, again taking notes. That hardly helped Itachi's case – he didn't doubt that Orochimaru's opponent, whoever he or she ended up being, would have Sasuke testify to that effect.

"But as for my uncle… Well, he's running for mayor. Why would he? The last thing he'd want is a murder in closet, right?" Sasuke said simply. "Although… I don't know. He never seemed too upset about it."

In fact, as the conversation went along, it became apparent that the boy was clearly as in the dark about the massacre as most people which was, Kabuto supposed, telling in itself. He obviously had nothing to do with it at the least, which sparked a question, "So, why do you think you're still alive?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Sasuke took a long, indulgent sip of his steaming drink. Eventually, he sat it back down upon the table. "I… I don't know. Itachi said something to me that night…" he trailed off.

Kabuto's interest was instantly piqued – whatever was said, most likely, was extremely revealing. He doubted even his boss knew this yet. He smiled to himself at the thought of being helpful, and poised his pen for writing it down, "Go on." He encouraged.

"That's the thing. I don't know what he said – rather, I can't remember exactly. The memories of that night are still hazy." Sasuke looked to the side, uncomfortable, "I want to know as much as you do, believe me."

Undeterred, Kabuto pressed on. Getting information out of those with memory issues used to be something he was very good at in his previous job with Orochimaru, "You said you can't remember 'exactly'. What are the small things you recall?"

"It's strange – he mentioned something about," he paused to make sure of things in his mind, "this may make no sense, but… I think it was crows, a nightmare and a perfume? There you go." Sasuke gave Kabuto a level, unperturbed look. "I want my meeting, now."

Eventually, the secretary nodded and pushed up his glasses. That bizarre little snippet may, though seemingly irrelevant to the current facts, have opened up a totally new window to the case, something that Orochimaru would be very interested in, indeed. "I'll speak to him as soon as I can. Actually, no, come straight to the office tomorrow morning – he'll probably be too tired by now to listen to you properly. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly do you want to see him for?"

The Uchiha sniffed, apparently having decided that the secretary had outlived his usefulness, or something to that effect, "I do mind you asking, actually. I don't really think it's your business." Satisfied, Sasuke rose. "'Til tomorrow, then."

* * *

Over in prison, Kisame had a dilemma. He liked his new neighbour – he really did, he was quiet and well mannered, but not lacking a certain discipline and hardiness to him. Indeed, Itachi was an admirable person, and someone he didn't want to see ruined by the nastiness of prison life.

The new guy himself was not the issue; rather, it was his friends', if that's what they were, reaction to him and vice versa. He knew better than to hope that Deidara or Hidan would be pleased by another new member of their exclusive sect, especially one that had done nothing to prove his worth to the group, but he had at least thought that Sasori would see Itachi's potential for greatness.

Perhaps he did, and was just being his usual Sasori 'I'm-interested-but-I-won't-admit-it' self. Lord knows, since coming to prison with the rest of them he had been less enthusiastic about just about everything, not that he had ever been a bundle of zest. He probably still felt bitter about his partner's last minute turnaround escape from prison, Kisame mused.

Regardless, Sasori's misery was not the issue. Rather, the Akatsuki-Itachi situation was. Even when Nagato stretched out a rarely revealed hand of welcoming, the Uchiha had all but spat directly on it. Brave though that was, that really wouldn't help his case…

Apparently, Kisame's vexation was visible, as Kakuzu gave him a punch on the arm from his seated position next to him.

"What's wrong with you?" He muttered from underneath his mask.

"I'm worried."

He didn't really have to elaborate, as Kakuzu was a fairly perceptive person, and more or less knew what was plaguing his companion's thoughts. "Indeed – that Itachi is gonna find himself beaten up, raped or dead if he doesn't come and be a bit nicer to us or the other inmates."

"… Thanks for that. I feel much better."

"No problem."

They fell into silence, watching a few fist fights break out in the courtyard with disinterest. Neither of them particularly enjoyed sitting out in the sub zero temperatures watching vast, hairy men pound each other to submission, but it was all part of the Akatsuki show of generally being hardcore, and so they did it anyway.

It certainly brought benefits: Akatsuki members were given front of the line for everything, be it food, showers, the newspaper deposit or the occasional celebratory gift from the higher ups. Not that those were anything except mocking; one year they had all been given tea cosies for Christmas. Handy, given there was not a teapot in sight. Indeed, some had tried to wear them as hats, but quickly found themselves beaten up for being so girly.

Kisame sighed. Itachi was pretty girly looking, come to think of it – what chance did he have?

"Just stick by his side if you're that worried." Kakuzu murmured, in between impressed noises at some of the moves displayed in the largest courtyard fight.

"That's what I'm doing."

"Fine. Why are you worried?"

"Well, I don't think I could do much if Deidara and Hidan decided they really wanted to knock him off in a break time."

There was a silence, which Kakuzu thought he'd fill with what he thought was a rather amusing little joke. "It's break time now. He might already be dead."

Kisame huffed and stood up, resisting the urge to punch Kakuzu in the face. "Helpful, aren't you! Whatever, enjoy your spectator sport."

He headed off without another word, making sure to bump into some smaller inmates to fully express his anger. Kisame really couldn't recall being so generally stressed since their group trial before incarceration, and that was a pretty miserable time.

"I need a nap or something," he hissed to himself.

* * *

Orochimaru's mood, since the morning's shopping trip for Itachi, had fallen drastically for the usual reason – he was on the way to go and see a person he very rarely wanted to, yet was often forced to. While waiting for Kabuto's return from his lunch time sortie, he had realised that he probably ought to go and tell Madara that all was going according to plan, and that Itachi would be quite cooperative. Therefore, he found himself standing outside the dark wooden door to his employer's study, the ominous hue doing nothing to make him feel any better. Not that it ever did, he was largely used to this.

As per usual, he didn't bother to knock and instead barged straight in, long past the stage with Madara where pleasantries mattered. Much to his surprise, however, he found the office empty. Checking the usual secret compartments of Madara's office, of which there were quite unnecessarily six to his knowledge, he decided that the man really wasn't in. This was generally strange, as he kept very strict working hours and this was definitely a time where he should have been present.

More than a little suspicious, Orochimaru sidled up to the desk which he was forbidden from touching, unless of course he was forced on to it by its owner in a moment of highly unprofessional wild behaviour, and searched for any clue. Discovering the usual biscuit tin, half empty, and a series of generally very dull paper stacks relating to shipping and other such drivel, he was about to give up. That was, until he spied a curious sachet sitting, assumedly purposely concealed, between the covers of a file.

At this point rather nervous that Madara would return and find him looking through his desk, Orochimaru quickly opened the little bag and pulled out what appeared to be a seed. Amused, he wondered if the Uchiha tycoon had suddenly gotten into gardening.

Much as he wished this was the case, this was doubtful, and so he thought it prudent to steal this seed and run some tests on it. Purloining the curious was always the obvious response, he had long since decided. Or perhaps he would grow it and then run some tests – either way, it was a strange thing to find on Madara's desk, and anything odd in the man's possession almost always spelt disaster.

Tearing himself away from his line of thought, he reached for his tightest necklace and opened the hidden compartment in the fourth pearl from the centre on the left, and inserted the seed snugly. He then quickly rearranged things, thanking his competent memory for retaining the image of how the desk had looked before he touched anything. However, feeling that not everything was perfect, he invented a reason for why he, quite legitimately, touched the desk: picking up a pen from its horizontal position on a sheet, and grabbing a piece of note paper, he began to write a note concerning his success over Itachi. About three words in, he was interrupted.

"How many times do I have to tell you to keep your hands of my things, hm? Did you just get here?"

With a start, Orochimaru's gaze snapped up to see Madara standing in the doorway, a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face. The folded arms didn't help much with the image, and had he been discovered a minute earlier with the mysterious seed bag, Orochimaru didn't doubt he might find himself down the barrel of a pistol. He had a great relationship with his superior, after all. "Indeed. Afternoon, _sir_." He grated out, finishing his loopy scrawl regardless of the lack of need, thanking his luck for putting him on the favourable side of the close call.

Eyes narrow, Madara approached the desk and peered over at the note his lawyer had been writing. Despite his usually well-masked expressions, he allowed himself a little sigh of relief, apparently convinced that nothing consequential had been found or searched for on his desk. _How wrong he is_, Orochimaru thought with an internal smirk, highly pleased with his stealthily executed stealing. _Just like the good old days_, his thoughts continued wryly.

"Ahh, you won him over faster than I had expected." The Uchiha said, finally back to his normal joking façade, referencing the note.

"Naturally – I have ways you are familiar with yourself, no?" Orochimaru replied, plucking the note from the desk and tossing it casually into the bin a few feet away. He was thankful that the toss didn't miss – that would have looked more than a little silly. Feeling bold on his successful track covering, he ventured a question. "Strange to see you out of the office outside your usual hours – did something come up?"

"I was visiting a friend of ours."

Unaware that Madara and he shared anyone they could call 'friends', Orochimaru raised an eyebrow, before resting lightly on the desk. "I was unaware that I _liked_ any of your compatriots."

"Well, I don't like him either – funny how these things work." Madara waved off vaguely, fixing his subordinate with a look which always spelt trouble for those around him. "Concerning my nephew, however…"

"Which?"

"The one that matters," the Uchiha smirked a little as he said this. Concerned, Orochimaru was still slightly unsure as to which nephew he meant – assumedly, it would be Itachi, but… "I would expect you to retain a professional relationship with him."

_That came out of nowhere_, Orochimaru thought, alarmed. Not one to show his concern, however, he smiled back at his boss. "Why, I am every inch a professiona-"

Orochimaru was cut off by Madara taking a step closer to him and intrusively slipping his hands on his lower back. "Mmm, not how I'd put it."

Falling silent at the sudden invasion of personal space and decency, it became apparent to Orochimaru that he would not be back in time to pester Kabuto about what he had been doing at lunch, and he had no choice but to lean into his Madara's now wandering touches, thoroughly displeased by his body's willingness. "You are more d-depraved than I-"

Madara moved yet closer, and brought his mouth to Orochimaru's ear, and spoke in a firm whisper. "Hah, well, just… remember: you owe me."

* * *

**Madaras are, in general, classified as not safe for work.**


	5. Cheer up, you

**Oh man, this is such a difficult fic to write. I can't explain it, it just is… I keep rewriting and replanning and coming up with more ridiculous backstory…**

**You guys can expect flashbacks later on, by the way. Probably of the Madara/Akatsuki/Oro origins story, which I had a really bizarre dream about the other day. Seriously. You know you're a tad crazy when you're having tea party dreams about your AU settings.**

**Anyway, new chapter after, what, a month? I wish I could say this would get updated more frequently, but it probably won't :\ Sorry. At least it's more frequent than Oro's appearances in canon ;D**

**As ever, thanks for reviews and favs and all that and you people are cool and okay this is over now.**

**

* * *

**

When a decadent cake arrived in front of him not five minutes after he awoke, Itachi's first reaction was suspicion, followed by concern. It then took him a good ten minutes of staring at said food, practically glaring holes in it, for him to realise who the thing had almost certainly come from. The understanding pleased him – he was starting to wonder if he had been forgotten about. Clearly, the cake said otherwise.

It was not large, but it certainly was enticing. Clearly done with some form of lavender scented icing, it had a slight purple tinge to it, and combined with the cream towers, decoration and oddly perfect looking blueberries, he did have to wonder how much money Orochimaru had for him to be spending it on top of the range bakery for his client.

Sighing, he poked at the nearest cream tower, and was delighted to find it fresh. However, he quickly recoiled, upon recalling that he was in prison, and being sighted with such a nice cake would probably warrant him a fairly speedy beat down from the larger, less refined inmates. Indeed, after a few minutes deliberation, he decided that it would probably be best to hide the snack, though that was not before he cut himself a little slice with the kindly provided knife.

A jealous groan sounded, and he was slightly sheepish, not that he showed it, to be met with a mournful looking Kisame staring at the cake from his opposite cell. "You… must have a nice friend."

Itachi, given that he quite liked his burly neighbour, decided that maybe he would share it. "The same one who met me a few days ago."

Kisame frowned, nodding in a bitter understanding. "I never got cakes from outside friends. Didn't even think it was allowed. Then again, I have weird reactions to milky stuff…"

That was, admittedly, a slight relief to Itachi. He hadn't really wanted to share his cake, despite his initial thoughts of punishing himself in jail. He had, since meeting his lawyer, decided that the occasional treat was not such a bad thing. In fact, it would just remind him of what he was missing, and make it all the more painful. At least, that was what he told himself and was beginning to believe. _The me of a week ago would be ashamed…_ "I was going to give you some, but in that case…"

"Yeah, you don't want me going all lumpy and swollen."

The Uchiha decided not to comment. Indeed, he thought with distaste, he did not want that.

* * *

At the same early morning moment across the city, Sasuke once again found himself pacing. His left ankle, which he had managed to harm by slipping on an ice sheet outside the gates of the Uchiha compound, groaned in protest with each step, but he pointedly ignored it.

Kabuto had made several attempts to calm the boy down as they waited, albeit not patiently, outside Orochimaru's office. They had made their presence known, but were apparently being ignored. He wasn't entirely sure what his boss was doing in there, probably some last minute pre-prison visit preparations, but every second seemed to be killing the young Uchiha.

"Did you tell him I was here?" Sasuke asked for what was roughly the sixth time.

"I tried, but as I said earlier he didn't let me finish. Shall I get some tea for you?"

The Uchiha paused in thought, before answering. "Yes, alri—"

He did not get to finish, however, as Orochimaru's office door swung open to reveal the man clad in his usual over-the-top winter attire, complete with fur, copious amounts of jewellery, ruffles and an eccentric, ornamental hat. He paused upon seeing Sasuke's quizzical look.

"… What ever are you doing here, child?" He asked after a few moments of a stare down.

Kabuto frowned and resisted another heavy sigh. "I did tell you he was—"

"You most certainly did not."

"Fine, I tried to tell you."

"Again, I am sceptical." He turned impatiently to Sasuke, before something appeared to click in his mind, and his face went through a range of emotions including what looked to be a sudden recollection, sheepishness, deep thought and an eventual vague relief. "Actually, I suppose it is rather fortunate that you saw fit to show yourself here…"

Sasuke was again, perplexed. He seemed to recall the last time that he spoke to Orochimaru, he has his hopes and dreams stepped on with no remorse. Apparently, something had changed in the last few days, but he wasn't exactly complaining. Though, with the man apparently needing no persuasion to accept Sasuke, his meeting with Kabuto did appear to have become irrelevant, irritatingly.

When the Uchiha boy motioned that he was fully listening, Orochimaru continued in an airy tone, belying nothing of the significance of his request. "I am on the verge of departure, as I am sure you can tell, so I shall keep this brief: how do you fancy working for me for a little while? Certainly, I will help you with your… goals concerning your brother, but it would be nice to have some assistance."

Kabuto choked. He really did wish that his superior would consult him before randomly propositioning children.

In response, Sasuke blinked, not exactly having expected that. The decision was easy, however, this would allow him more of an opportunity to get Itachi killed off. "I… I don't see why not. It's not like I have anywhere else to be."

"Indeed, I suppose your home education has somewhat fallen through… No matter, I shall step in and lend my delicate hand!" Orochimaru decreed, apparently pleased with his act of benevolence and general goodwill. He took a few steps forward, patted Sasuke on the head affectionately in what was assumedly an attempt to bridge the silence, only to be met with a glare, before sweeping out of the room before anyone could say anything.

A silence followed before Kabuto pushed up his glasses and addressed Sasuke with a bemused expression. "No, I don't know what just happened, either."

"... Does he often do that?"

"All the time. Get used to it."

And just like that Sasuke found himself, without elaboration or real purpose, working for the lawyer who had initially swept him aside without a second thought. _Desperate times_… he thought wryly.

* * *

The Akatsuki table was engulfed in a foul mood. The members sat in silence, shoving the 'food' into their jaws, most of which were tight with anger.

Once in a while, one of them spat out a sentence. "Stupid Uchiha. They think they're better than everyone else."

"Just like f-mph-ucking bloody Madara."

"Don't speak with your mouth full, Hidan."

From the far end of the table, Zetzu spoke up. "Speaking of our boss-" He took a look at Nagato and cleared his throat, "Well, out of jail boss, heard anything else from him recently?"

"Not since last week," Nagato replied, "although I'm not expecting to."

"Hate that guy." Deidara hissed, stabbing a particularly disturbing looking lump of what was supposed to be chicken with his fork. "All Uchiha are so damned high and mighty, I mean, if I had it my way, all of them would just go and take the nearest broom handle and shove it up their asses until-"

As usual, Nagato raised his hands in calm reconciliation, cutting off the blonde before he could go further with his fantasy. "I want him with us."

Sasori snorted in doubt and returned to whatever bizarre newspaper he was reading. No one quite wanted to ask him what it was, as doubtless it'd be something thoroughly inappropriate - somewhere along the lines of 'Necromancers' Nightly' which had been a firm favourite of his old partner back when they were still free citizens. He hadn't quite dropped the habit of reading it, it appeared.

From behind his trademark dust mask, Kakuzu made a dubious noise. "I thought that was what Kisame wanted."

"Indeed. And I have no objections to his wishes." The red head replied curtly, still not having taken a bite of his meal. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a blue head over the crowds, and in front of him he discerned Itachi. He paused and looked over at Deidara, who was sidling up to his newspaper reading friend and trying to get a look at the article. "Deidara. Go ask him to join us again."

"No."

"That's an order."

The blonde heaved a heavy sigh and exchanged weary glances with Sasori, whose attention had almost been regained from his reading material. They both knew full well that no one questioned the leader of Akatsuki, and thus he had no choice. So, with another sigh and a long, indulgent drink from his dirty glass of water, Deidara pulled himself off his seat and made towards Kisame and Itachi, who were just about visible seating themselves at a table as discreetly as a giant blue man and his extremely attractive companion could allow.

Eyeing Deidara's malcontent expression as he walked off, the red head offered a warning. "If I see you being anything less than courteous…" Nagato trailed off ominously.

The artist's reply was a terse wave of the hand, knowing he had no choice in the matter, and kept on walking.

Hidan merely sniggered as he watched the scene. "Bitch is whipped into shap—" He was promptly whacked by Kakuzu.

"Same goes for you."

Meanwhile on the other side of the lunch hall, Itachi repressed another sigh as once again he found himself sitting at his lunch table with a set of narrowed eyes boring into his back. Slightly uncomfortable, he dipped his spoon into the nondescript mush that he had been presented with (which Kisame assured him to be the normal Thursday meal), and turned his thoughts back to the cake. Naturally, this turned to thoughts of the man who gave him the cake and he quickly found himself sitting in anticipation of another visit. It had been a few days since Orochimaru had made himself known, surely meaning he was due another rendezvous, although perhaps that was just wishful thinking on Itachi's part.

When growing up, he had always been told to find his happy place in times of need, and overcoming the bowl of prison food, if it could be termed that, was certifiably a moment of great need. Therefore, he entertained his fantasy that today was the day for another visit, and whilst he did not show it, it certainly made him feel better.

Kisame offered him a sympathetic smile from opposite him, doubtless remembering his own first encounter with the Thursday Special. That smile, however, quickly dropped as his eyes focused on approaching figures behind Itachi.

The Uchiha didn't have to turn around to ascertain that they were probably the Akatsuki finally coming to pester him. Indeed, they had been somewhat lax on their attempts to harass him since their first encounter, much to Itachi's lack of surprise. They were just as lacking in actions to back up their words as he had first thought.

"Hey, Uchiha," Still not turning around, Itachi recognised that voice to be the blonde one. "Uchiha. Look, don't ignore me, you-"

"I heard you." He muttered in reply, half tempted to fling his gruel in the general direction of the approaching man, "I just don't particularly want to speak to you."

Kisame snickered into his mush and gave Itachi a semi concealed thumbs up.

Apparently this was not enough to deter the Akatsuki member as he clambered on to the bench next to Itachi and stared at him intently, as if trying to solve a particularly difficult piece of arithmetic. Itachi turned and stared back passively, and they sat there for a little while giving each other thoroughly unhappy looks before eventually Deidara spoke up.

"Did you really kill your family?"

"Yes."

The blonde looked surprised. "Huh. Cool. Why?"

"…Because I felt like it." Itachi replied, that having been the answer he had stuck to since his original confession. In retrospect, he mused, he certainly hadn't made his lawyer's job easy with what he had said in his previous trial.

Deidara nodded in what he believed to be a sagely understanding. "I totally get that. Families aren't cool, yeah."

The Uchiha raised an eyebrow and indicated that the other man should stop wasting his time, even if he was slightly confused as to what the point of this was.

"Yes. Uh," Deidara raised a hand to the back of his head in a resigned scratching motion, his expression an unpleasant mask which was doing a poor job of hiding his deep dislike of the situation, "think properly about joining us, yeah?" After a pregnant silence, he glared into Itachi's eyes, nodded, stood and marched off, quite intentionally stepping on a weedy looking inmate's foot as he went.

The silence stretched on even after he left, neither Kisame nor Itachi quite sure what to say or how to react. Instead they shrugged, the latter not quite visibly, and settled on heroically ploughing through their lunches, choosing to largely ignore whatever pathetic attempt at pestering that was meant to have been. While he had no right to look down on them, Itachi had absolutely no intention of frolicking about with the Akatsuki, finding the idea of criminals coming together to appear more threatening to other criminals absolutely childish. At least, that's what he assumed they were together for.

Eventually, the guard who Itachi recognised as little Naruto from a few days ago seemed to be coming their way, and the Uchiha did an internal jump for joy. This could only mean one thing, and that thing was civilised conversation with someone who wasn't Kisame. Agreeable though he found his fellow inmate, he was unused to spending so much time with a single person and so he longed to pass time with someone else.

With anticipation, he turned to his blue companion and offered him his bowl. "I don't need it, so…?"

Kisame thought about it and gave a sorrowful nod before relieving his companion of the death meal. "Thanks. It's kinda sad that I'm happily eating two bowls of this stuff."

Snorting, the Uchiha left the table in otherwise relative silence and was pleased to see that Naruto's face brightened considerably at how willingly he was coming along. He did admittedly quite like the boy. He was certainly fresher than the lumbering muscle fests that inhabited most of the jail.

"Um, Itachi-san, your visitor-"

"Certainly. Lead the way."

Having voiced his surprise turned pleasure at Itachi's acquiescence, Naruto headed off with the inmate behind him with notably bouncy steps. They didn't exchange any conversation as they were, after all, supposed to be mortal enemies as guard and inmate, so the lengthy walk to the meeting room was largely a quiet one.

During the time spent on the move, Itachi took a moment to wonder what would come up during the meeting. Doubtless his lawyer would want to actually get some information out of him and he would need to be careful there. Itachi's policy was only to let the other man know exactly what he _needed _to, keeping as much hidden as possible. Much as he suspected he would end up liking Orochimaru, he certainly wasn't the kind of person that could be trusted with anything even resembling important secrets.

Then again, this was no real problem to Itachi as he was by now very used to keeping everything to himself, having lacked someone to spill all his fears and secrets to since roughly the age of eight.

No, what he wanted was to have someone to talk idly with, someone who was not Kisame and someone who knew the full extent of his darkness and didn't really seem to care and his lawyer fit the bill perfectly. _Could we actually… be friends_? He allowed himself the question tentatively, yet for once, thoughts of self deprivation and punishment didn't surface.

In fact, dark thoughts of the massacre were largely absent in his mind, instead his only worry was that of the fate of his little brother. He dearly hoped that Orochimaru had done as requested and made sure he was safe out of Madara's clutches. Indeed, Itachi knew full well that Sasuke was not as strong as he made himself out to be and almost certainly needed protection.

Uncomfortably, a vision of his brother's face surfaced in memory of the night of the killings, tears unable to flow out of sheer shock. He shuddered, barely even able to process the self loathing he felt at doing that to the one person he really loved. If this little get out of jail scheme was successful, he knew full well the kind of life debt he would owe to his little brother, one he would gladly pay. That was, of course, provided Sasuke was still well…

Sasuke was probably safe, he thought sharply, and worrying would do no good in any event. Orochimaru would have seen to that. His lawyer, maybe almost friend would fix the situation. At least, that was the hope that Itachi was determined to cling on to, and cling he would.

He let his mind roam after that. Lost in his thoughts, he wandered along as though he was somewhere else entirely allowing highly self indulgent thoughts of befriending his lawyer, exposing Madara for his true villainy, reuniting with Sasuke and living out the rest of his days surrounded by friends and his descendants. That fantasy started with Orochimaru, and though he couldn't attain it, let alone the fact he did not deserve it, he could not help but be excited by the prospect.

Suddenly unimpressed by his nigh skittish excitement which was beginning to manifest itself on his face in the form of a slight smile, Itachi calmed himself down and put on his usual blank face. He continued in this manner until they reached the meeting room, and with a short breath outwards, he nodded and walked into the room with purpose and nearly smiled at the sight which he was met with.

More relaxed than he had been at their previous meeting a few days ago, Orochimaru was lounging around in his chair surrounded by piles of paper and various items pertaining to the case. He nevertheless wore a look of deep concentration to the point where a small crease was visible between his sculpted eyebrows, and dare Itachi say it, he almost looked like a cute little child with his thoughtful pout. _Almost like Sasuke, _a voice sounded from somewhere.

At the sound of the door opening the illusion was broken and the lawyer looked up to see his client step into the room. Orochimaru appeared silently thankful for a good reason to stop reading over his files. Repeated reading was a necessary evil, Itachi supposed.

"I would say that you look well," Orochimaru began with his standard amused smile, "but that would be a complete lie."

Itachi nodded in solemn understanding, trying not to show how happy he was at exchanging words with someone who wasn't his blue fanboy. "Sleeping in this place is difficult."

"Indeed, I remember."

The Uchiha wasn't particularly surprised to hear that his lawyer had spent time here before – he certainly had the impression from the previous meeting that he was far from a nice person. Of course, Itachi was by now very used to the idea that he was surrounded by degenerates and general scum. Unhappily he mused that he could probably slot himself into that category. "Do I get to know why you were sleeping here?" He almost teased, desperately trying to cling on to a businesslike tone.

Orochimaru paused to consider and offered a sneaky smirk. "I daresay you shall find out by the end of this whole mess." He allowed a lapse in conversation to sort his papers into appropriate piles, during which time Itachi sat down in his chair opposite and made himself comfortable.

Not wanting to waste time, he dived straight in with the matter that was really causing him grief. "So, did you do anything about my brother?"

"…Why, Itachi, the very moment I returned to my offices after our last meeting I set about stealing him away from Madara's dark clutches!"

Feeling that calling Orochimaru on his blatant lie (the pause somewhat gave it away) would be a tad rude, as, in all likelihood he probably had followed through on his promise albeit not quite as speedily as he made out, Itachi nodded. "How is he?"

"Settling in nicely. I am not certain as to whether he quite knows what my job is concerning you…" the lawyer began, trailing off as though offering control of the conversation to Itachi which he gladly took, being all too keen to direct his brother to safety.

"Tell him – you said he wanted to get me the death penalty, yes?" With a nod from the other man, he continued, "In that case, help him with that."

Orochimaru blinked. "I assure you, I have no intention of having you killed…" He sighed before going on and weighed things over in his mind before going on, "Frankly, I do not fancy putting any plan in concrete now, especially not such drastic ideas. I doubt _you_ even know if you were being serious there."

The Uchiha looked to the side in a downcast fashion, also uncertain, "I would happily die if it was what Sasuke wanted. I deserve it, after all…"

A heavy silence weighed over the pair, during which Orochimaru regarded the younger man with a blank gaze which soon became a narrow eyed expression. "Oh, do stop your moping and likely misplaced self harassment." When Itachi didn't react, he huffed as though to say 'I am not adverse to throwing something at you'.

The Uchiha felt a little guilty there. He hadn't meant to give the impression of being self pitying. "

"We shall deal with… _that_ when you have your acquittal." A heavy silence then weighed down over the pair, the talk of death not exactly brightening the mood in the already darkly furnished room.

Orochimaru clapped his hands together and Itachi could not help but noticed that his smile seemed more forced than it had been previously. Regardless, he was intent on moving the conversation past that and the inmate had no qualms with that. "Anyway, what I need from you today is significant and the sooner I know this the better. What exactly," he stabbed the air with a ring adorned finger to emphasize the point, "And I mean _exactly_ happened the night of the massacre?"

"I killed everyone."

The lawyer's eyes narrowed, highly doubtful. "Really?"

"I don't know." Itachi replied lamely.

"… Well, you must know. Surely?" The lawyer looked a little confused here, "Or are you telling me you were not there at all?"

Itachi shook his head, feeling a tad useless at this moment in time, "No, I was there. I just don't remember a thing."

"Ah." Orochimaru raised his eyebrows as this sunk in. "That… that is not very helpful."

"Hn."

The two of them, both feeling that a cup of tea and some cake would alleviate the fact that today's meeting had been several notches short of satisfying thus far, they summoned Naruto in with his wheely cart. To his masked amusement, Itachi noticed that the boy had clearly been eating some of the snacks whilst he waited outside.

Whilst their tea was served, Orochimaru tried a slightly different method of approach. "So, what makes you think you killed them?"

"Well, it was my job. And, you know from the trial... I must have done it, no one else could have." Itachi nodded his thanks to Naruto who set his tea down before him. Hungry from his general neglect of his mush-lunch, he happily picked up his teacake and took a bite.

The lawyer made a noise of surprise. "The weapons presented as evidence were not forged?" At Itachi's headshake, he sighed, "Well, I suppose this was never going to be an easy case…"

"You can drop it, you know. I don't care." The Uchiha replied, fully understanding his companion's vexation.

"Your uncle does." Orochimaru pointed out, daintily picking up his teacup and waving Naruto out of the room with an entertainingly contrasting lazy motion. He lapsed into quiet, considering what he had been told, when suddenly a spark appeared in his eyes.

Itachi noticed this and motioned that he voice his thoughts.

"The fact that you remember nothing is telling in itself, you see," apparently, Orochimaru was smug about whatever he had thought up as his standard smirk had turned into an outright, what some might call crazy, grin, "for that begs the question as to _why_ you remember nothing. Oh, certainly, it may just be a matter of trauma, however, my own personal investigations combined with my admittedly slightly excitable imagination are making me wonder..."

"… What?" Itachi was curious, yes, but it was not as though whatever his lawyer was thinking would really change anything: he was still a murderer regardless of whether he could remember it or not. "Wait, what personal investigations?"

Again, Orochimaru's smirk graced his face and he looked pleased with himself. "Oh, just a little sneaking and thievery. You wouldn't happen to know if your uncle was a keen gardener, would you?"

The meaning was lost to Itachi. "...No. Why exactly-"

"Well, we shall certainly find out exactly what I discovered before the trial. Give it some time to grow…" He trailed off, infinitely pleased that his potentially life risking, and slightly off the bat bout of larceny had become so relevant so quickly. It did almost seem too convenient to his paranoid mind, but at the same time Orochimaru had always been somewhat lucky with his narrow escapes and learning of important facts. He hoped that his finding the mystery seed would happily fit itself into both categories.

Sighing, the Uchiha leaned back in his seat. He had many questions for this man, and he doubted he'd get answers for most of them, but at that very moment in time he found it his deepest wish to do something frivolous. His life had been a torrent of misery for the past while, and he was at the point of really not wanting to do anything serious.

Apparently understanding what the motion meant, Orochimaru chuckled. "No time for tomfoolery, I am afraid." The corners of his mouth turned upwards, "though perhaps I shall bring a chess set along tomorrow?"

Itachi felt slightly silly at that moment, cursing his moment of weakness. However, the idea was welcome. "Yes, I would like that," He admitted, silently pleased by the indication that he would be visited the next day.

They spent the next few minutes engaged in idle conversation, neither of them apparently wishing to pay any attention to the many matters of business that still lay unresolved. Their general topic of conversation was, predictably, Itachi and how he was finding his current stint in jail. The Uchiha tried several times to find out something about his lawyer than extended beyond the fact he was pretty to look at, apparently liked his expensive clothes and accessories and was, well, a lawyer. These attempts ultimately were deflected masterfully.

"Oh, did you like my presents? I shall have you know I had to pull more than a few strings to get you permission for retention of goods." Orochimaru asked at one point, nibbling on his strawberry tart.

"The cake? Yes, thank you. Though, presents plural?"

The lawyer looked slightly troubled with a slight hint of 'someone is getting berated' beneath the surface, "Did you not get my other gifts?"

"Well, I haven't been in my cell since early this morning, so…" Itachi hoped that this would alleviate the other man's troubles. He had no particular desire to return a dark mood to their meeting.

Indeed, Orochimaru brightened considerably at this. "Ah, no wonder, then. You seem like the sort of person who would appreciate them."

Curious, Itachi raised an eyebrow. Part of him was slightly nervous at appearing better off than the other inmates. He did after all already have quite enough animosity directed at him in the form of the Akatsuki and the general populous who took an instant dislike to his good breeding and well spoken nature. Then again, he could hardly waste his lawyer's earnest efforts to be helpful. That was, if they were earnest.

He didn't really fancy asking Orochimaru exactly why he was spending so much time and effort on him. It could have been the mere fact that he was worried by Itachi's cold reception last time, but that seemed far too innocent. The Uchiha was, after all, well versed in dealing with utter wankers courtesy of his uncle and was as a result highly suspicious of all good deeds that came his way.

In any event, he was enjoying the pleasantries and thus was somewhat disappointed when Orochimaru returned to business, asking him completely out of the blue, "Exactly what planning went into the massacre and for what reason? "

Having expected this to come up eventually, Itachi nodded in what seemed to his lawyer to be an obliging manner. "Frankly, I don't know how much of what I know is the truth, but-"

"Oh, good. I do love a good spree of potentially false information."

Deciding not to pause and try and work out whether Orochimaru was serious there for his nigh constantly playful expression probably served as a mask as effective as his own, Itachi continued, "Basically, I'm sure you know that my family and the Senju family have never gotten on."

Orochimaru was pointedly silent, which he took to mean as a yes.

"And obviously, my uncle leads that opinion what with his past with the late Hashirama Senju."

"Worry not, I consider myself quite the expert on what transpired between those two," Orochimaru cut in, all traces of earlier joviality having faded and been replaced with a worryingly serious expression.

Itachi merely nodded, making a mental note to ask why that was at a later date, "As you know, my uncle is standing for Mayor later this year, and in opposition is Hashirama's own granddaughter, Tsunade-"

"Who I happen to have gone to school with."

"…Really?"

"No, that was a dreadfully funny, incredibly well timed and all round witty joke." Was the deadpan reply from the lawyer, who had regained some of his previous snarky disposition.

The Uchiha sighed, refusing to admit that he had asked a more than slightly silly question. Keen to move on from this, he went on with his tale, "Anyway, my uncle is desperate to win that election," the look on Orochimaru's face read 'tell me about it' in response to that, "so he thought that it would be a great time to finish off their family with one great bout of public humiliation."

Catching on to what was being led up to, the lawyer finished the tale by himself. "So he… had his family murdered, presumably so as to frame the Senju as a despicable act of campaign sabotage?"

"…Yes." Itachi replied, slowly. He was definitely not finding telling this tale easy, growing more and more distressed at the fact that he went along with the plan.

There was a slight silence. "You do know how silly that sounds, do you not?"

"I hadn't really considered it before. But yes, it is a bit…"

Orochimaru looked vaguely unimpressed and lightly fingered the rim of his teacup, "Farcical and several notches above over-the-top? Then again, knowing your uncle the way I do…"

"Yes, in what way is that exactly?" Itachi shot back, somewhat on edge after the talk of the massacre. He felt it was about time he learnt something about the man who was supposed to be helping him, yet so far had done little save for provide sarcastic comments at the least helpful moments possibly.

The man opposite him looked a little sour, fixing a pout-accompanied glare at the teacup, "Not your business." He muttered in response, and Itachi could almost swear he saw a slight blush on the other man's pale face, "There's more to it than that." He finally managed, referencing their previous conversation topic. "You're not telling me everything, there's no reason why _you _would want to kill your family in those reasons..."

Itachi, however, was too busy almost being happy at hearing the other man talk _normally_ to really respond to this in any sensible way, and so he settled for picking up the remnants of his teacake in silence. He certainly didn't want to give too much away just yet.

They locked eyes for a good while, before Orochimaru settled for restarting conversation with a sniff as it seemed as often to be his job with the taciturn Uchiha, "I daresay I shall find out eventually, although you are certainly not helping me."

"Can we talk about something else?" Itachi replied quickly, hoping that his lawyer would understand that discussing the murder of his family over tea wasn't high on his list of priorities.

Apparently, the other man did, as he nodded and gave an indulgent smile. "What would you like to talk about, then?"

Nothing meaningful came to mind, much to Itachi's irritation, as almost everything he wanted to ask would doubtless lead back to unpleasant conversation. He ended up saying something a little juvenile. "What are your hobbies?"

This seemingly took his companion aback, as he rose his eyebrows as he considered his answer to this. "Creating… things. Though, I am a great fan of music, certainly… What about you, Itachi-kun? What are your hobbies?"

"I…" Itachi began, not having had the space to think about hobbies for a long time indeed, "It's not really a hobby, I don't know, but I like visiting traditional Eastern cafes." He replied honestly, for that was indeed a great passion of his. He had always found himself drawn to them, but that was not surprising given his family drew its roots from the east as an ancient clan of ninjas (and he had often entertained himself in his childhood with thoughts of his family as ninjas of all things), although they insisted it was a samurai clan as those were considered somewhat more honourable.

Orochimaru chuckled a little at this, "And here I was thinking I could perhaps bring your hobby to you. In that case, Itachi, once all this mess is over, I promise I shall take you to whatever café you so wish, be it the best, your favourite, or one on the other side of the world."

"Okay." He didn't know what to say – at all. "Yes. That'd be… good." And unreachable, for Itachi's thoughts flew back to the words they had exchanged earlier, and a deep murmur somewhere in the back of his mind echoed _'Not that I'll live that long_."

His companion nodded and adopted a mischievous smile and, for the first that Itachi had seen, the smile reached his eyes. "Better than good. Almost enough to say alive for, I'd say."

The Uchiha didn't want to put too much faith in the words of a man who made a living helping murderers and thieves, but, and he cursed his own weakness for this, he so badly wanted to. He was alarmed to find that his heart rate had gone up – when did he get so … hopeful? "I would, too." He admitted, and smiled a rare smile.

In his pleasure, he failed to notice how unpleasantly Orochimaru's eyes glittered at his reaction as he smiled the smile of a man who had just had the world given to him on a plate.

* * *

A while later, a figure swept through the snow into an ornate carriage.

Orochimaru was almost sad to leave his client, having rather enjoyed their meeting. It had ended up stretching on for a good few hours as there had been a considerable amount to go over, not to mention there had been some angst-induced walls that had to be surmounted. Those would take time, he thought. Then again, the trial would not be for a while.

Of course, that was not at the forefront of his mind, he was far too busy being pleased with himself for how quickly he had managed to gain young Itachi's trust.

He paused. Perhaps trust was too strong a word, but he was certainly held in high regard by the boy despite the little titbits of his villainy that he let slide. It was necessary that his criminal dealings not come as a surprise later he had decided, as that would totally destroy and bond they had forged, and he needed that bond to later use it to take over the Uchiha corporation.

Naturally if that failed, he now had himself one Uchiha the younger tucked away at home, ready for back up use.

He smiled to himself for what had to be the twentieth time since leaving the meeting room and getting on his carriage. It was rare that such perfect plans had such delectable tools, after all.


End file.
